Draconus Book One: The Sorceror's Stone
by fullsailnate
Summary: An Alternate Universe of Harry's first year at Hogwarts. At the beginning of his life, an attempted murder changed Harry dramatically. How will he deal with it? Please R&R!
1. Chapter 01: You’re a Wizard, Harry!

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. The Entire Harry Potter Universe, with the exception of my additions to it, belongs to J.K. Rowling, and I would never presume to take credit for it.

Chapter 01: You're a Wizard, Harry!

            "Harry! It's time to wake up!" the cheerfully shrill voice of his Aunt Petunia came from downstairs. Harry Potter rolled over and mumbled incoherently. It was his cousin's birthday, and they were headed to the zoo.

            Harry Potter had lived with his Aunt and Uncle as long as he could remember. When he asked why, he was told that his parents had died in a magical accident, and he was left with the Dursleys so they could look after him. His Uncle Vernon didn't care for magic, saying he didn't hold with such unnatural things. His Aunt Petunia, however, was a squib, and seemed to accept him. There were times, though, when she seemed scared of him. Whenever he inquired about that, she just shook him off, dismissing it as nothing.

            Harry Potter was magical. He learned that he could do things with his will power at a very early age. The first time he could ever remember doing something strange was in his Kindergarten class. He was coloring with the crayons, and he made a mistake with the colors. Rather than rip the paper up and start over, he put his hand on the color, and wished really hard for it to change. It did, and he was happy.

            "Harry, hurry up!" came the whiny voice of his cousin, the spoiled brat. Dudley Dursley was a large boy, who was turning eleven today. Harry wasn't fond of Dudley, and the feeling was mutual. Harry was slightly jealous of his cousin, because he always got whatever he wanted, and always got an enormous amount of presents on his birthday and for Christmas. Harry was not terribly jealous, however, because his taste in presents ran a different course. Harry loved books, ink pens, and paper. His three favorite things not involving magic were reading, writing, and drawing. Harry didn't always get his way. In fact, he rarely got his way. He wasn't bitter, however, and chalked it up to being a relative, rather than real family.

            The best present he ever got from the Dursleys was not for any special occasion. In truth, it was meant to be a punishment. After turning his teacher's hair blue, his Aunt Petunia enrolled him in a Karate class, saying that he needed to learn discipline. After a few lessons, Harry began to enjoy his punishment, and took the advice to heart. He now rarely ever lost control.

            After a quick breakfast, quick because of the rate which Dudley shoveled food into his mouth, Piers Polkiss showed up for the trip to the zoo. Everyone piled into the car, and they headed for the zoo.

            Harry loved the zoo. Each animal in the zoo was interesting in its own way. Harry noticed with some surprise that several of the animals were glowing slightly. One of the larger lions had a reddish glow to it, which pulsated slightly, as the lion looked around at the people. Harry thought it was odd that only some of the animals would glow slightly, but most had no glow to them at all. It was the same with people, he mused. Sometimes, he would see a person, that had a glowing aura around them, but most people had no aura. He couldn't see his own aura, though he knew that it was there. His Aunt had a very slight aura, which only ever grew larger when she was upset about something, and even then wasn't very big. Harry assumed that the aura had something to do with magic, but he didn't know what.

            In the Reptile House, Harry noticed that many of the venomous snakes had a glow to them, but most of the non-poisonous ones did not. He wandered around the Reptile house, looking at each snake, paying special attention to the glowing ones.

            While Harry was examining the snakes, Dudley and Piers had run straight for the biggest snakes in the building. Their faces were pressed up to the glass, eagerly watching the snake, willing it to do something interesting for them. The snake, which appeared to be sleeping, took no notice of them. Both of them started banging on the glass, trying to make the snake move. No response from the snake. Dudley finally got bored with trying to agitate the snake, and moved on. Harry walked over to the large snake.

            "Sorry about that. My cousin is a bit rude." Harry said. The snake picked its head up, and regarded Harry carefully. He slithered up close to the glass, and raised his head to study Harry more carefully. Harry stood still, trying not to draw attention to the snake. Naturally, it didn't work, and Piers noticed right away. Piers yelled to Dudley, and Dudley cam waddling over.

            "Move over, you!" Dudley said, elbowing Harry hard. Harry ended up sprawled out on the floor. Then something happened that had not happened for a long time. Harry lost control of his emotions. Anger blazed in his eyes, and the glass separating the two animals disappeared. Dudley, who was pressed against the glass once again, ended up inside the snake enclosure, and the snake slithered out of the enclosure.

            Half an hour later, Harry was sitting in the car, heading home from the zoo. He knew he was in trouble. He broke the rules that had been agreed upon by him and his guardians, and used his magic where ordinary people could see it. He wasn't sure what his punishment would be, but he knew he deserved it. He felt awful about it.

            As it turned out, Dudley got punished as well, for bullying Harry, and causing the problem that made Harry use his magic. However, the punishments were quite different. Dudley was not allowed to play his video games for one week, a punishment that made Dudley throw a tantrum. Harry, however, was given the task of cleaning the basement. Harry really didn't mind his punishment, because he felt he deserved it after losing control. Harry was always given some type of manual labor as punishment, which he always threw himself into, turning it into endurance training, or the practice of doing things he didn't like.

            Cleaning the basement to his Aunt's satisfaction took a long time, and Harry didn't finish until after school let out for the summer. Harry loved summer, because it was the only time he was allowed to ride the wind. (A/N: I'll explain later.) That was one thing that his Aunt would never take away. Vernon had tried once, and woke up the next day on the roof, unable to get down. After six hours on the roof, Vernon had decided that perhaps he'd been too harsh on his nephew.

            Summer went by very quickly, and before Harry knew it, it was his birthday. He was eleven, starting that day. He woke up fairly early, and rode the winds for a while, before the rest of his street woke up, then got ready for breakfast. After practicing his meditation for a few moments, he headed downstairs. As was usual, there was a single present waiting for him on the table. As was traditional, Harry set the package on the small side table by the door. He would open it later, in private.

            "Get the mail, Harry." Said his Uncle, as they heard the mail slot click, indicating that letters had been dropped through it. Rather than argue, Harry got up and got the mail. In the mail were the usual bills and advertisements, along with a postcard from Marjory Dursley, Vernon's sister, and Dudley's Aunt. There was also…a letter for Harry?

Mr. Harry Potter 

_The Smallest Bedroom_

_Number 4 Privet Drive_

_Little Whinging, Surrey_

            Harry couldn't believe his eyes. A letter had arrived for him. Nobody had _ever sent him a letter before, except the Library when he had an overdue book. Harry looked at the letter, and became somewhat suspicious of it. For one thing, there was no stamp on the letter, which meant it hadn't come from the Post Office. Second, the fact that he slept in the smallest bedroom was written on the letter suggested that whoever wrote to him, knew where he was sleeping. That thought creeped him out just a little. And last, but certainly not least, the letter was glowing slightly, which meant that some part of the letter was not normal. Harry wasn't sure he wanted to open it, so he did what he always did when something he didn't understand came along. He took it to his Aunt Petunia._

            "Aunt Petunia? I got a letter in the mail, but I'm not sure I want to open it." Harry said to his Aunt after dropping the rest of the mail in front of his Uncle. Harry handed her the letter, and she looked at it carefully. Her eyes narrowed slightly when she saw the address, which Harry took to mean that she was suspicious as well. However, when she turned the letter over, and found the purple wax seal with an elaborate crest pressed into it, her eyes widened in understanding.

            "You can open it, Harry. It's a letter from a boarding school in Scotland, called Hogwarts." Vernon's eyes narrowed in what Harry thought was anger, but he said nothing. "Your parents went to school there."

            Relieved that the glow wasn't anything harmful, Harry tore open the letter, shuddering at a memory of pain from the last object he'd handled with an unidentified glow to it. He'd once found a bracelet that glowed brightly, and put it on without thinking. As soon as the clasp closed, he could feel the glow change, to become cold, dark, and menacing. The bracelet started compacting, almost taking his hand off. Harry managed to remove it before it did any permanent harm, but it did break his wrist, and leave a very small scar on the index finger of his opposite hand. He wasn't sure how that had happened. Shaking himself out of his memories, Harry read the letter.

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry 

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore )Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

_Dear Mr. Potter_

_            We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31._

_Yours Sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall_

_Deputy Headmistress_

            Harry wasn't sure what to think about this letter. He hadn't applied to any school, so how could they just accept him? He knew it was a school of magic, but didn't he have to have some kind of qualifications apart from just being magical? It was confusing. As if sensing Harry confusion, Petunia spoke up.

            "Hogwarts sends those letters to every child that is born magical. Being able to do magic is the only requirement to attend that school." Harry thought that was a bit silly, and said so.

            "If that's the only qualification, then I have my doubts about the education system at this school. Do they teach anything other than magic? If not, I'd hardly call it a well rounded education." Harry said. "And look at this. They await my owl by no later than July 31st? That's today! They're not even giving me a chance to think about it!"

            Harry was interrupted from his tirade by the doorbell ringing. He was already standing, so he went to the door to greet whoever was calling. Opening the door, he came face to face with an old man, older than anyone Harry had ever seen.

            "Hello. Are you Harry Potter?" The man asked, although his brightly glowing aura seemed to indicate that he already knew the answer to that question. It was confident and unwavering. "I am Albus Dumbledore. I am the Headmaster of Hogwarts. I do apologize for the lateness of the letter, but it seems that our owls had a hard time finding you." At this statement, the man's aura dimmed slightly, and shrank. He was lying. Harry's eyes narrowed slightly, but he stayed quiet. The man continued. "I am here to answer any questions you might have about the school, and confirm your enrollment. May I come in?"

            Harry considered the man for a moment, and then told him to wait a moment. He walked into the kitchen and told his Aunt and Uncle about the visitor. They told Harry to show him into the sitting room, and they would be in shortly. Harry did as they asked, and then took a seat near the door. He could hear his Guardians conversing in low tones behind the door.

            "I don't want one in my house, Petunia. We agreed that this rubbish was too dangerous for our family to be exposed to," said his Uncle's voice.

            "Vernon," replied the voice of his Aunt, "the boy is growing more powerful every day. You saw what happened at the zoo. It's getting harder for him to control himself." 

Harry was a bit outraged to hear this, but upon reflection, actually agreed with her. Dudley had bullied him several times over the last few years, but Harry had never lost control like that before. "He needs to go to a place where he can release his magic safely. Riding the wind doesn't tire him out anymore. He uses it as a warm up for his day, like the neighbors go jogging.

            While listening to his relatives with his sensitive ears, which were far more sensitive than normal ears, Harry kept his eyes firmly on the Headmaster, watching for any changes in his aura. A few times, the aura started pushing out towards him, but then retreated slightly, as if nervous about approaching. Harry was slightly suspicious of the man, because he'd never seen an aura shift like that before.

            "What are you doing?" He asked the Headmaster. "Is it some kind of magic?"

            Dumbledore was rather taken aback by the question. He had been trying to cast a small Trust-Me charm without moving his hands or going for his wand. Something in the boy's eyes revealed that he didn't trust the Headmaster just yet. The firm eye contact also revealed that he was not put off in the slightest by the power that Dumbledore was displaying. The Headmaster made it a habit to display a certain amount of power at the first meeting, so children would regard him as a figure with authority, despite his old age. "What do you mean Harry?"

            "Don't play dumb, Sir. I can feel your power shifting slightly, and trying to reach towards me." Harry said, maintaining his eye contact. Dumbledore's gaze was steady, but then he abruptly dropped it.

            "It was a small bit of wandless magic, Harry. I was using a spell to try and get a feel for how strong you were." The aura once again shifted and shrank. He was lying again. Harry didn't like liars. "However, I've never done the spell without the movements before, and it wasn't working. I am surprised that you could feel the magic at work."

            Before Harry could form a response, his Aunt and Uncle entered the room. Dumbledore straightened up, and his aura flared again. Harry guessed that he was trying to awe the family, and from the look on his Aunt's face, it was working. Harry was unperturbed, however. He didn't feel this man was a threat to his safety, so he brought his next question to bear. "Why didn't you do the movements?"

            He watched as, though the man remained composed, his aura shifted uncomfortably. "I didn't want to alarm you." Harry took the meaning of the aura shift coupled with the evasive answer to mean that he didn't want Harry to know he was casting anything. Deciding that it was futile to analyze this incident further, considering he didn't know anything about his quarry other than his bright green aura, Harry decided to get down to business.

            "So, about this school... I'd like to know more about it. What is the curriculum like?" Harry asked. He put a lot of value into his education. He was planted firmly in his belief that knowledge was power.

            The question caught Dumbledore off guard, though the topic of school was what he said he came to talk about. He had rather hoped that Harry would agree to the school immediately, and he could work more on the boy's trust. It seemed that this would not be the case. "Well Harry, as you know by the fact that you're holding that letter, you are a wizard." Harry frowned slightly at this. He knew that human magic users were called wizards, but the word felt wrong when used to describe him. Dumbledore caught the frown, and misinterpreted it as disbelief. "Think about it, Harry. Did you ever make anything happen when you were angry or scared? Things you couldn't explain?" Harry's frown deepened slightly, but then he dropped the frown. Sure, he'd done things when he was angry, but not when he was scared. And he never done anything he couldn't explain. He'd used magic to do them. Dumbledore then continued.

            "At Hogwarts, we endeavor to teach young witches and wizards the magical arts. We have classes in Transfiguration, Charms, Potions, and Defensive magic. We also have a History of Magic class, and Herbology. That is the first year curriculum. You add new classes at the beginning of your third year." Dumbledore leaned back in his chair, waiting for Harry's forthcoming agreement. He was going to be disappointed.

            Harry was rather shocked. "No math? No English classes? How are we supposed to survive in the real world without any of those skills?" Sure, Harry was just eleven years old, but hearing his Uncle Vernon grumble about things being tough in the real world had influenced his thinking a little.

            "Harry, we wizards keep world separate from muggles, our word for people who cannot use magic. Not very many of our kind associate with them." Dumbledore said, as if this explained everything. "Sometimes we mix, but more often than not, we keep ourselves hidden."

            "Well, that's silly." Harry stated. "You can't work through any differences by hiding from them."

            Dumbledore was rather shocked to be admonished by a child, but tried to hide it. "Harry, if muggles knew about us, they would come to us for magical solutions for everything, from love potions to cures for diseases."

            "If they want a cure for diseases, then you should give it to them, sir." Harry said, unmoved by the argument. "Having a cure, but withholding it, is murder by complacency."

            Dumbledore decided not to get into this debate right now. He agreed with Harry, but was not in position to change the world. "Harry, your parents went to my school. I was their Headmaster, and before they died, they set up a trust fund, that will pay for your school."

            That piqued Harry's interest. This man had known his parents. Perhaps he could find out some things about them. "Sir, if you knew my parents, could you tell me a little about them? I know my mother was a witch, and my father a wizard, and that their deaths were magic related, but I don't really know anything else about them."

            The eager look on Harry's face was what Albus Dumbledore had been trying to get since he had opened the door, so he took the chance. "Harry there are a few things that we need to talk about while on the subject of your parents. The first, and most important, thing is that what killed them was no accident, as you were told. In truth, your parents were murdered." Dumbledore paused for a moment here, for dramatic effect. He was a rather accomplished storyteller. "When your parents were in school, a Dark Wizard came to power, using the assumed name of Lord Voldemort. He was looking for followers, and anyone who refused him was either eliminated, or tortured. When your parents left school, they joined me in fighting the growing darkness. Voldemort perceived them as a threat to his power, and sought to eliminate them. Soon after, your mother became pregnant with you, and we set up certain defenses to keep her safe. They worked for a while, but just over a year after your birth, Voldemort finally found them, and tried to eliminate all three of you. He killed your father and mother, but for some reason, when he tried to kill you, something was different, and the curse rebounded on him. That's how you got your scar."

            "May I ask you a question, Headmaster Dumbledore?" Dumbledore nodded. "What color was the magic? I have a suspicion, but I would like to know."

            "It was green, Harry. A sickly, pale green." Dumbledore responded.

            "That matches my perceptions, then." Harry said. When Dumbledore looked at him oddly, Harry elaborated. "Whenever I try to remember my parents, I always come to one specific memory. A scream, some high pitched evil laughter, a flash of green light, and then a pain in my forehead coupled with a nauseating twisting sensation. I've never been able to figure out what it was, but if the light from the curse is green, then it seems that I just solved that little mystery."

            "Ah, I see what you mean, Harry." Said the Headmaster, though the aura shift told Harry that he actually had no idea what he meant. "Well, after we found out that your parents were dead, we sent you here, to your Aunt's house. Three years ago," at the time mention, Harry paled ever so slightly, "we got word that Voldemort was not completely dead, and was seeking a way of returning to his body. Of course, since you were the one to defeat him in the first place, we took measures to protect you. We were quite worried about you when the bracelet ceased to function just after you put it on. Harry?" At the mention of the bracelet, Harry became angry. His Aunt was fuming as well, but Harry's anger was radiating off of him, so intense that it was almost visible.

            "You sent me the Bracelet?" He hissed. At Dumbledore's confused nod, a ball of light appeared in Harry's hand. He was preparing to defend himself. "That Bracelet tried to remove my hand! It shattered my wrist, and cut off my circulation! I had to wear a cast for two months because of that thing!" His wrist rotated in remembered pain.

            Dumbledore was shocked. He'd made the bracelet himself, and was certain that no mistakes had been made. He was also shocked that Harry had conjured some kind of magic into a ball in his hand, without a wand. He was beginning to become suspicious of Harry's magic. It seemed different, somehow. 

"Harry, allow me to apologize. When I created the bracelet, I didn't know how big you were, or how quickly you were growing. I placed a fitting charm on it, so it would shrink to fit you perfectly. Apparently, I made a mistake, and it became a constricting charm instead. I am very sorry." His aura was bright and clear, so Harry knew that he meant it. Without the prospect of an enemy, Harry's anger died quickly. He dissolved his spell, and sat back down.

            "If my parents wanted me to attend this school so badly that they set it up when I was born, then who am I to argue?" Harry said. "I accept the invitation to attend." Dumbledore clapped his hands.

            "Very well, Harry. I look forward to seeing you on the first of September." He said. "I will send someone to you tomorrow to help you purchase your school supplies." With that statement, the Headmaster did something that Harry had never seen before. His aura flared, and clouded, and then he disappeared with a 'pop.'

A/N: Next time, shopping in Diagon Alley, and meeting a new friend Now that you've read it, please review it, so I know how you like it!


	2. Chapter 02: Diagon Alley

A/N: I got an excellent response from chapter one, so here goes Chapter two! But, before I start, I need to say something. Not long ago, I met someone very special. She's probably the most amazing person I've ever met, and I love her. I'm speaking, of course, of my beta reader Xirleb70. She looked through my story, and fixed all my mistakes. I also found her to be the best conversationalist in my life. I sing the praises of Xirleb70!! All hail the goddess of my writing universe!

[BETA NOTE by Xirleb70- Aw, stop it! You're making me blush!! Hello everyone!! *waves* If you see any mistakes tell him *points to fullsailnate* in a review and then he'll tell me. Which means, feel free to **Bash the Beta** (sounds like a game show) while you're at reviewing this masterpiece.]

**Athenakitty: **Calm down, dear. All will be explained somewhere in the next few chapters.

**Psych18: **He would have, if the Dursleys hadn't walked in. One on one, he's very confident, but in a crowd, the Headmaster must be respected.

**TimGold: **First, This book won't be too much more than 10 chapters. Second, I'm sorry, but this AU is already plotted out five books long. I have an AU equivalent for every one of JK's books. Third, Ron won't be Harry's best friend, but they'll be ok together. Are Fred and George suitable friends for Harry? He needs to make it to the Burrow for book two.

On with my chapter!!!!

**

Chapter 02: Diagon Alley and a New Friend

**

            When Albus Dumbledore reached his office that afternoon, he summoned his Transfiguration Teacher to meet him. Minerva McGonagall was a brilliant witch, and one of the most observant people he knew. She was also the Head of Gryffindor House, where Albus wanted Harry sorted. By giving him a good impression, it might influence his decision slightly.

            It didn't take very long for Minerva to reach Albus' office. She had actually been expecting his summons since she found out that he was visiting Harry that morning. Lily and James Potter had been very close friends, and Minerva was interested to know how the boy was doing. She gave the password, and made her way up the staircase to the Headmaster's Office.

            When she entered his office, Albus wasted no time. He needed a favor, and he hoped that Minerva would be agreeable to it. "Minerva, my dear, please sit. Would you like a Lemon Drop?" The offer of candy put Minerva on her guard right away. Albus never offered candy unless he was going to ask for a favor. She was not to be disappointed. "I have a favor to ask of you." The bluntness of the statement stunned her.

            "Well, that was abrupt." She stated. At Albus' confused expression, she elaborated. "It normally takes you at least five minutes of small talk, before leading and baiting someone into doing you a favor, Albus."

            Albus chuckled. "Normally, Minerva, you are correct. However, I've just come back from a meeting with the most straightforward person you'll ever meet." Minerva glanced at Albus, noting the serious look in his eyes. "Harry Potter is a remarkable boy, and will be attending Hogwarts this year. There is something strange about him, though. He speaks his mind, asks questions that you don't expect, and expects honesty at all times."

            "What do you mean, at all times?" Minerva asked. That was a strange statement.

            The look on Albus' face turned rueful. "When I met him this morning, I told him the owl that should have delivered his letter got lost. The way he looked at me, he knew I was lying to him, even with my mind shield up. It seemed like he decided that he couldn't trust me, so I tried to cast my wandless trust-me charm. I've done it a hundred times, so much that it's almost second nature. I tried three times, and not one of them managed to get near him." 

Minerva's eyes widened. It was only a little shocking, but shocking, nonetheless. 

"After the third time, Harry asked me what I was doing. Somehow he'd managed to sense that I was casting something. I told him it was a scanning charm, but he knew that once again, I was lying to him. He was about to call me on it, but his relatives walked in. Apparently, he's been taught to show respect to others in company, for he dropped that line of inquiry right away. Instead, he began asking questions about school."

            "Was he excited to begin learning magic?" Minerva asked. "I remember how Lily was in her first year. She was so eager to learn everything."

            "Actually, he surprised me again. Rather than being excited by the idea of learning magic, he was rather disappointed that our school is restricted to only learning about magic." Albus said, watching Minerva's shocked face. "I know, Minerva, I know. That's the first time I can remember when a student didn't simply jump at the chance to study magic, but after what happened next, I guess I understand."

            "Well, don't keep me in suspense, Albus! What happened next?" Minerva asked.

            "Before I get into that, I need to ask you about that favor." Albus said. "I would like you to take Harry to Diagon Alley tomorrow to get his school supplies. I would normally ask Hagrid to do it, but after what happened in Harry's living room, I need someone who is far more observant than Hagrid to keep an eye on him. When talking about his parents, I touched briefly on Voldemort." Minerva flinched at the name, but Albus pretended not to notice. "Well, as I was relating the story about Voldemort's attempted rebirth three years ago, I mentioned the bracelet that I made for him. Harry, for some reason got very angry. His power level flared to a level that I've never seen in a child of his age, and he formed a ball of light in his hand. It was a white glow, so I could not identify the spell, or if it was simply a ball of magic. Harry, it seems, can exert a certain amount of control over raw magic. I need to know how extensive that control is, and how advanced he is in his use of magic."

            "Was there any explanation for his outburst of anger, Albus?" Minerva asked. "I find it hard to believe that he just lost his temper for no reason."

            "Astute as ever, Minerva." Albus replied. "When Harry put the bracelet on, the fitting charm I placed on it reacted badly with his natural magic, and transformed into a constricting charm." Minerva gasped. "It shattered his wrist before he managed to remove it. I know that I also placed a locking charm on it, and I've no idea how he opened it, but I'm glad he did. Apparently, he associated the bracelet with an attempt to attack him, and made to defend himself. When it became clear that I was not going to attack him, and I did not harm him intentionally, his anger dissipated."

            "Alright Albus, let me see if I understand what it is that you want me to do." Minerva said. "You want me to take Harry to Diagon Alley, and get his school supplies, while watching him carefully for anything I would consider unusual. After taking Harry back to his home, I am to come back here, and report my findings to you. Correct?" Dumbledore simply nodded, and Minerva agreed.

**

            Harry woke up early the next morning, and decided to go jogging. Normally he would ride the wind in the morning, but something seemed wrong about doing that today. After running, he took his shower, and put on some loose clothing. It was summer, and Harry wanted to be comfortable. He then went downstairs and made breakfast, it being one of his chores for the day. His Aunt had gotten home very late last night, apparently, and didn't want to be troubled with breakfast.

            Breakfast was always a quiet affair, mostly due to the fact that his Uncle didn't talk to him, and his cousin was constantly stuffing his face. Harry didn't mind the quiet, though. It had been this way for as long as he could remember. Harry didn't dwell on the quiet for long, however. He was excited about the day ahead of him. He had no idea who was coming to collect him, but he did know that whoever it was, would take him to get his school supplies.

            At precisely Ten o'clock in the morning, there was a sharp rap in the door. His Uncle had already left for work, and his Aunt was in the back garden, so Harry opened the door. Standing on the front step was a woman. She looked to be about sixty-five or so, though she aged well. Her hair was pulled up into a tight bun, and her face was unadorned by any makeup or jewelry. Harry though that she looked quite severe. However she looked, Harry could tell that she was a friend. Her aura was a nice emerald green that flickered with emotions. He wasn't actually sure what the emotions were, but he thought that they were nervousness, some eagerness, and just maybe some happiness as well.

            "Hello, young man. My name is Minerva McGonagall. I am the Professor of Transfiguration at Hogwarts. I was sent to find one Harry Potter, and take him to find his school supplies." Her aura remained bright and strong, so Harry kept listening. Rather than ask, since she knew already, McGonagall tried a different approach. "I taught James and Lily Potter when they attended Hogwarts. Never in my life have I seen a person who so strongly resembles them. You must be Harry."

            Harry was happy that the person sent was not going to start off by lying to him. "Yes, I am Harry. I'm pleased to meet you Professor McGonagall. Would you like to come inside?" He asked. She accepted, and Harry led her into the sitting room. "I'll be right back, Professor. I will inform my Aunt Petunia that you're here."

            Harry made his way to the garden, and told his Aunt that there was a visitor. When she asked who it was, he told her it was the lady that the Headmaster sent to help him get his supplies. His Aunt wanted to meet her, and told Harry to ask her to wait just a moment. Harry did as she asked, and sat down in his usual seat, directly across from the visitor.

            As he sat there, watching the professor, he opened his senses, and tried to discern what his eyes were telling him. McGonagall's aura was different than Dumbledore's. It was the same color green, but it lacked the intensity of the Headmaster's. Harry thought for a moment, then hypothesized that maybe it had something to do with the level of power that each was capable of utilizing. He wanted a basis for comparison, and once again cursed the fact that he could not see his own aura. There was also something different about her aura in terms of configuration. The structure was mostly human, but there was something different about it. It reminded him vaguely of the lion he'd seen at the zoo.

            Before Harry could ask her about this little anomaly, his Aunt Petunia walked in the room. Professor McGonagall stood and introduced herself. Harry remained silent while the two ladies made small talk for a few moments, then Professor McGonagall announced that it was time to leave.

            On the way, Minerva began to feel just a bit uncomfortable with the quiet boy. He looked so much like his father that it was rather disconcerting for him to be sitting in silence. "Do you have your list, Harry?" Harry pulled out his letter, which was still glowing slightly, and looked inside. He pulled out the paper, but there was no list. He looked at the Professor, stricken for a moment. "Nothing is exactly what it seems in our world, Harry. Look inside the envelope again." Harry looked, and sure enough, there was another paper inside. He also noticed that the letter stopped glowing.

            "Hey! It stopped glowing." Harry said, thinking out loud. McGonagall made a mental note of this, but said nothing.

            Getting off the bus at the street corner, Harry found himself in London. The pair of magic users walked down the street until Harry saw something awful. Harry winced, and shut his eyes, but it didn't do much to help the pain from his eyes. Standing a ways down the road was a building, that gave off so much light that Harry could not stand to look at it. So much light, in fact, that it continued to hurt him, even with his hands flung over his face. Trying to stop the pain in any way possible, Harry reached up his left hand, and willed the light to go out. He felt his magic gather in his hand, and burst forward towards the light. Seconds later, the light flickered, and then went out completely. Harry, feeling completely exhausted, staggered to his feet, and McGonagall hurried him into an entrance to some shop. Harry was still seeing spots in his eyes, and felt totally helpless, as drained as he was.

            "I need to eat something, Professor." He said. McGonagall told him that the place that they had entered was a restaurant of sorts, and that she would get him something to eat. Harry sat at a table in a private room, while he waited patiently for the food, and for his head to stop hurting.

**

            Elsewhere in London, several alarm bells started ringing at the Accidental Magic Reversal Department. Several lower ranking Ministry workers were running about trying to figure out what was causing the alarm. Finally, the answer was shouted above the noisy workers.

            "THE ANTI-MUGGLE WARDS ON THE LEAKY CAULDRON HAVE FALLEN!" Came the yelling voice of one of the workers. Once the cause of the alarms was identified, the alarms went off, as they were designed to. An Obliviator team was sent to tidy up the muggle situation, and a Warding team was sent to re-establish the wards on the Leaky Cauldron, and finally an investigative team was sent to determine exactly what caused the wards to drop without any warning.

**

            After Harry had eaten, he was feeling better. He was still weak, but felt he was ready to continue shopping. A crowd of people, who had heard that Harry Potter had come in, stopped him in the main part of The Leaky Cauldron. In that crowd, Harry met Professor Quirrel, a bald young man who stuttered quite badly, although Harry noticed that every time he stuttered his aura flickered ever so slightly. Harry brushed it off as a side effect of the stuttering.

            Walking to the back of the Leaky Cauldron, Harry and the Professor left through the back door, and found themselves in a small alley. Harry thought that maybe they had taken a wrong turn for a moment, and then he noticed the brick.

            "Professor, what triggers the brick?" He asked. Once again, McGonagall found herself gaping, and shut her mouth quickly. She knew that the boy had done some sort of magic just outside the Leaky cauldron, but she hadn't seen it happen. She also knew that whatever he did, it almost knocked him unconscious. So, the question was, how was he sensing the brick?

            "What brick, Harry?" She asked. Hopefully, he would reveal something by telling her. He looked at her, gauging her. It was almost as if he didn't believe she had asked that question.

            "Professor, there is only one brick on this wall that glows, so it's the only magical brick on the wall." Minerva resisted the urge to gape in shock. Harry could see magic. That's how he was able to see things, and probably how he could manipulate raw magic without a wand. Incredible. "So, how do you trigger it? I assume it's some sort of hidden door."

            Still somewhat shocked, Minerva pulled out her wand, and tapped the brick three times. Harry looked at the wand, and noticed that it was glowing pearly white, with emerald green laced throughout. "Welcome to Diagon Alley, Harry."

            Harry had to blink for a moment, the many different types of magic blending together until his eyes adjusted. Once he could see again, he tried once again to get his brain to recognize what the magic was doing. He noticed that there was a shop that sold broomsticks, which glowed at the end. He wasn't sure what they were for, but whatever it was, the magic was strong. He asked about them, and found out that they were used for flying. Harry was a bit puzzled about why they would need brooms to fly, but remained silent.

            Entering Gringotts, Harry bumped into a very large man. He was at least ten feet tall, and at least three times as wide as a normal man. He introduced himself as Hagrid, the Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts. After chatting with Hagrid for a while, the pair of shoppers headed to Harry's trust vault, where Harry found a very large pile of gold. It was explained to him that the money was to be used for Harry to purchase his school supplies, and anything else he needed for the next seven years. Harry gathered up some of the gold into a bag, and headed back out of the bank.

            For most of the shopping, Harry's mind was on something that he should have considered trivial. The giant man, Hagrid, had a small object in his coat. Normally, Harry wouldn't think anything about it, but it was glowing. However, it wasn't the glow that intrigued Harry. It was the way it was glowing that interested him. The glow came off of it in waves, as soon as one pulsed out, the next would burst from the object, almost as if the magic was only barely contained by the object. Whatever it was, it was powerful.

            Harry's school list was taken care of quickly, until all that was left was his wand. Harry didn't really understand why he needed one, but the Professor had informed him that it was to help him do magic.

            Walking into Ollivanders took Harry's breath away. There were so many glowing wands, and each wand glowed differently than any other. It was such an interesting place, and Harry was so captivated by it, that he didn't notice Mr. Ollivander approaching him.

            "Good Afternoon," said Mr. Ollivander, in a soft voice. Harry jumped, startled, but regained his composure quickly. "I wondered when you would be coming to see me, Mr. Potter. I remember your mother coming in here to buy her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice for charm work."

            Mr. Ollivander moved closer to him, and Harry noticed that Mr. Ollivander looked at him the same way that he viewed the world.

            "Your father, on the other hand, favored mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable. A little more power and excellent for transfiguration. Well, I say your father favored it – it's really the wand that chooses the wizard, of course."

            With those words, Ollivander set about finding Harry a wand. He kept considering Harry, then dashing over to a shelf or drawer and picking up a wand, Harry watched him closely, trying to discern how he was finding wands for him to try. After the last three wands Harry held, none of them feeling right in his hand, he stopped Ollivander for a moment. "If the wand chooses the wizard, then why not let the right wand choose me?"

            Mr. Ollivander readied a protest, no doubt to say that was what he was trying to do, but Harry wasn't listening. He held out his hand, and flared his magic. He couldn't see his own aura, but he would give it a shot. He closed his hand, and snapped his finger. He felt a vibration issue from his hand, and waited. Seconds later, a wand answered the vibration from somewhere near the back of the store. Harry took a few steps, and snapped his finger again, repeating the process. Eventually, it brought him to the very back of the store, where on a shelf with only 4 other wands, was the answering wand. The glow wasn't pearly, like his Professor's, nor was it white. The wand was glowing red, and looked like fire. Harry gingerly picked the wand up, and felt the magic of the wand interact with him, as if it was testing him. Finally, the wand surged with magic, causing the glow to be visible to the other two occupant of the store.

            Ollivander clapped, but then looked thoughtful. "Curious, how very curious." He began packing up the wands that he'd had Harry try earlier, muttering to himself about things being curious. Harry finally had to ask what was curious, seeing that Mr. Ollivander wasn't just going to tell him. "Mr. Potter, that wand has a very interesting history inside this shop. Right after I made it, I made a point of testing it out with everyone who entered my store. Not only did it not choose any others, but also many of them wound up with some form of bodily injury. That wand you hold, Mr. Potter, is a fighter's wand. Made of holly, eleven inches long, and with a Phoenix feather core. It is one of the two most powerful wands that I've ever had the pleasure of making."

            Harry couldn't help asking. "What's the other one?"

            Ollivander's expression darkened. "The brother wand to this one is it's perfect match in power. Thirteen inches, made of yew, also with a Phoenix feather core. I'm sorry to say, it's that particular wand that gave you that scar, Mr. Potter. If I'd known what that wand was going to do…" He left the statement hanging, his regret lacing every syllable.

            By the time Harry left Ollivander's, it was dinnertime. McGonagall told him to wait for her in the private dining room, and she'd be right back. Harry did so, and sat quietly. About a half hour later, she came back with a cage. Inside the cage was a beautiful Snowy Owl. Harry wondered why she had it, until she handed the cage to him, wishing him a happy birthday. Harry stammered his thanks, and the pair of hungry shoppers sat down to eat.

            Minerva thought that now would be a perfect time to ask Harry some questions. "Harry, do you mind if I ask you a few questions? I knew your parents well, and I want to know a little about you." After chewing, Harry swallowed and told her to fire away. "Alright, this may sound strange, but I was wondering, how did you know about the brick?"

            "I could see it, Professor. It glowed a very faint white, like some kind of magic that was dormant. It looked a lot like the Hogwarts letters do." Harry said. That was interesting news to Minerva. Harry could visually perceive magic.

            "Can you do this with people too?" Was the next question she asked. Harry looked at her like she was crazy.

            "Of course I can." Harry said, almost indignantly, before his eye widened. "Wait a second. Are you telling me that you can't do that?" Minerva shook her head. Harry smiled. "I didn't know that it wasn't common. Yes, I can see people's magic, Professor. It shows up as a green glow around the person. I don't really know how to discern anything from it, but I can at least tell wizards from muggles."

            "That's very interesting, Harry. I have one more question. How did you do that thing you did in Ollivander's?"

            "Well, when he said that the wand chose the wizard, I figured that it had something to do with the way my natural magic worked with the wand's natural magic. I sent a pulse of my magic out, and waited for a response from the wand. Kind of like sonar, like bats use." Harry said.

            Harry and Minerva talked about many things after that. It ranged anywhere from Harry's parents to Minerva's experience with magic. Finally, she got him home, telling him a fond goodbye, and that she'd see him on September first. Harry fell asleep that night and dreamt a good dream. He had made his first magical friend.

A/N: Next chapter, on the train and a Sorting. Oh, and so I don't forget to say this, much of the dialogue in Ollivander's shop was taken directly from J.K. Rowling's Master work. I do not presume to take credit for it, even though I wrote it down again in my chapter. __


	3. Chapter 03: The School Year Begins

**SB/N**: (Substitute Beta note) Hello, just thought I'd let everyone know this chapter was beta read by the amazing **NOCTEM**! (No autographs please…) So if something's wrong don't blame Xirleb70 this time…

A/N: Another wonderful response to my chapter! I hope to keep these kind of responses up! A few words before I get started, though.

**Alphabet-Psycho: **Yes, he is eleven years old. He also reads a lot of books and has a large working vocabulary. If he's eleven, he is past fourth grade, and would know how those words are used if he read books that used them.

**Mr. K: **No, my story will not end with Harry being a super-wizard. He will be substantially more powerful than most other people, but not super powered.

**TimGold: **When I decide what the final pairing is going to be, I will let you know. Right now, I can tell you that it will not be a Harry/Ginny. Aside from that, it's up in the air. It will be Harry/Cho for a while in book five, but I don't know about the final pairing. More than likely, it will be Harry/Hermione in the end, but I haven't decided yet.

**Swordwielder: **Harry is going to be Hermione's little research project for a while, but eventually, they'll be friends.

**AthenaKitty: **You just summarized the last chapter in questions. The answer to most of your questions is yes. You will find out at the end of this chapter where I sort Harry. I will be loosely following the books, except for book 3, because I have a more interesting idea.

**Xirleb70: **Thank you again for being my beta. I honestly cannot think of a more perfect person to correct me. You are my Goddess, and I worship your name at the temple of fanfiction.

**

Chapter 03: The School Year Begins

**

            Things were quiet at the Dursley residence for the next month, with one small exception. For some reason totally unknown to anyone, Harry went to the hospital about a week before term started. He was diagnosed with extreme exhaustion, and confined to his bed for the week. The Dursleys' didn't know the cause of it, and Harry refused to tell them. He promised an explanation later, but asked that they forget about it for the time being. His Uncle had no problem with that, as the two didn't get along very well, but his Aunt was more reluctant. Eventually, however, she agreed to forget about it for a while.

            On September first, The Dursley family made a trip to London. Not only did Harry need to be at King's Cross train station, but Dudley had a surgical procedure scheduled for that day. He'd been having problems with his throat for a while, and the doctor said it was necessary to remove his tonsils. This meant, to Harry's Aunt's disappointment, that they would not be able to see Harry off to school. His Uncle was very gracious about helping Harry get his things loaded on to a trolley, and walked with him to Platform Nine. It was with a certain amount of glee that he informed Harry that there was no platform nine and three quarters.

            At first glance, Harry would have agreed with his Uncle, but after taking a second look around, he found it. There was a glowing spot on one of the columns between Platforms Nine and Ten. He walked towards it, only to be cut off by a troop of redheads. The woman, who Harry assumed to be the mother of the family, was grumbling about muggles. Harry recognized that word from when the Headmaster had used it. He fell in behind the troop of redheads, and approached the glowing column.

            "Percy, you first." said the mother. The eldest of the boys stepped up, and began to push his trolley towards the glowing column wall. Just as he got there, and Harry focused on the glow, to see if he could tell how it worked, a large group of tourists walked right into his line of sight. He couldn't see.

            "Fred, you next" Said the mother.

            "I'm not Fred, I'm George." said the boy. "Honestly woman, you call yourself our mother? Can't you _tell_ I'm George?"

            "Oh, I'm sorry George."

            "Only joking, mum, I am Fred." said Fred, as he took of for the glowing spot. His twin followed him closely, and Harry watched them walk straight through the wall. The wall changed slightly to allow them access, but he couldn't see exactly what triggered it. He waited a few moments, trying to think of something, but finally decided to ask for help.

            "Excuse me?" He said in a quiet, respectful voice. "Could you tell me how to get onto the platform?"

            The woman looked at him with kind eyes. "Not to worry dear, it's quite easy really. Is this your first time to Hogwarts?" She asked, and then went on without waiting for his answer. "It's Ron's first time to Hogwarts as well." The youngest boy and the only one left on the outside of the wall, looked just a bit embarrassed by his mother's attention. "All you have to do is walk straight through the wall there. Best do it at a bit of a run, if you're nervous."

            Harry was just a bit nervous. She told him how it worked, but he remembered the Bracelet again. He hoped that the magic in the wall didn't react badly with him. Well, the only thing to do was to test it out. He took of at a brisk walk, which turned into a jog. He was expecting to crash into the wall, but felt a cold tickling instead. Opening his eyes, he marveled at the train. It was an older style steam train, painted scarlet, with the words HOGWARTS EXPRESS written on the front. It was also glowing, a cheerful scarlet, which Harry had no idea what to make of. He dragged his trunk to one of the compartments, and opened the door. Inside, he found the redheaded twins.

            "Hey, you want some help with that?" One of them said. Harry shook his head then lifted his trunk, with some effort, onto the rack. Fred and George, as he had heard them referred to, looked suitably impressed. "I'm George Weasley, and this is my less intelligent and less handsome twin brother, Fred."

            "It's nice to meet you, I'm Harry Potter." Fred and George looked somewhat shocked.

            "Are you really?" Harry nodded. "Blimey!" The two twins ran from the compartment. Harry had no idea where they were headed, but put it out of his mind. Harry opened his eyes to the magic surrounding him. The entire train seemed to glow scarlet, with a myriad of different colors thrown in. He could see a faint orange glow, and decided to concentrate on it, to see if he could tell what it was. Well, the glow was pulsing irregularly, which meant it was reacting to an outside influence. The outside influence was most definitely the students, Harry noticed as he looked out the window. Every time a student boarded, the glow would intensify for a few milliseconds, just enough for Harry to notice the change. Next, Harry tried to trigger the reaction from inside the car, by throwing magic at it. Once again, he flared his aura, and snapped his fingers. The magic vibrated throughout the cabin, but didn't trigger the spell. What it did do, however, is help Harry to understand what triggered the spell. It was adjusting the temperature on the train continually, compensating for the body heat of each student. Harry decided to call it a comfort spell, since he didn't know the actual name for it. His perceptions just a little clearer, Harry decided to stop studying the glow for a while. There would be plenty of time for that later. He closed his eyes, and let the magic of the train roll around him in a comforting embrace.

            All too soon, though, his solitude was intruded upon, by another one of the redheaded boys. This was the young one, Ron. "Do you mind if I sit here?" He asked. "Everywhere else is full." Harry nodded, to show he didn't care, and the boy sat down across from him. Harry kept his eyes closed, but trained his other senses to study the boy's magic. Ron had a healthy feeling aura, but it seemed to roll and fluctuate. Harry opened his eyes to notice the moderate green glow, and watch it fluctuate. It was beautiful in a way, but it also felt as if he had an explosive temper. The boy seemed to be searching for the right way to ask a question. "Are you really Harry Potter?" He finally asked.

            "Yes I am." Harry was a bit uncomfortable with the way he was being looked at.

            "Oh, I thought Fred and George were kidding." Ron said. Now that Harry's identity was confirmed, the boy was focusing on Harry completely, and his eyes seemed planted firmly on his forehead. "Do you really have the…." He trailed off.

            "The what?" Harry asked, keeping his calm expression. Truthfully, the boy was starting to annoy him, being tentative like he was.

            "The scar?" The boy finished. Harry was somewhat surprised, but hid it well. He had no idea that his scar had some sort of importance.

            "Yes, I do." Harry made no move to show Ron the scar, however, and Ron seemed a bit deflated.

            Ron quickly recovered. "Can I see it?" He asked eagerly.

            "Why?" Harry asked, keeping his expression calm, although he was getting annoyed inside. "I don't like being stared at like some kind of performing animal."

            Ron had the decency to look embarrassed. "Sorry," he mumbled, turning his eyes away from Harry, and looking out the window. Ron was a bit confused by the way Harry was acting. He was famous, but didn't seem proud of it. Ron knew that he would be proud of his fame, if he had any.

            The train began its journey, and Ron continued to try and coax Harry into a conversation. Harry, who was trying to relax and enjoy the magic sliding around his senses, was growing steadily more peeved at him. It was only when he brought up the subject of using magic to turn his rat yellow that Harry became interested in the red haired boy.

            Ron pulled the rat out of his pocket, and Harry immediately noticed a few things. The rat was glowing, which meant that it had some sort of magic, but the glow itself was odd. It was mostly yellow, which Harry took to be the basic glow color, but it also had tinges of emerald green laced into the yellow. Now, Harry had seen several things that day that were glowing, but the only things with green glows were humans.

            Ron cleared his throat to say the spell, but the door opened and Harry received another shock. There was a girl standing there with bushy hair and large front teeth. Normally, that wouldn't shock Harry, but the girl wasn't glowing green. Unlike the rest of the students he'd seen, the girl was glowing a bright purple color. Harry thought it looked quite powerful.

            "Has anyone seen a toad?" The girl asked. Her voice was quite sharp, and Harry thought that she might be just a little bit bossy. "A boy name Neville's lost one."

            Ron began to reply, but she had already noticed the wand in his hand, and demanded that he show her the spell he was going to do. Ron recited the spell.

_"Sunshine, Daisies, Butter mellow,_

_Turn this stupid, fat rat yellow!"_

            He finished the spell, his wand pointing directly at the rat. Harry watched as the spell failed, but the uncontrolled magic left the wand anyway. It began to react with the yellow part of the aura, but the green immediately stopped it. The rat remained unchanged.

            "Are you sure that's a real spell?" The bossy girl asked. Without waiting for a reply, she continued. "Well, it's not very good, now is it?" Ron looked over at Harry, trying to convey his displeasure at her criticism, but Harry agreed with her. Even if the green part of the rat's aura hadn't squashed it, the magic was completely unstructured, and would not have had a predictable result. In other words, the rat may have turned into a toad, or anything. Most likely, in Harry's opinion anyway, Ron would have set the rat on fire.

            Harry, ever the assertive one, extended his hand to the girl. He wasn't sure whether or not he liked her, but she had the strangest colored aura, and Harry wanted to know what it felt like to touch her magic. "Hello, I'm Harry Potter, pleased to meet you."

            The look on the girls face didn't really change, as her eyes were already quite wide, something that many of the first years had in common. She looked like she'd just met someone from a storybook, to tell the truth. "Are you really? I've read all about you, of course. You're in _Modern Magical History_ and _Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century,_ and you have a whole chapter in _The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts._"

            "Really?" Harry asked. He had been told that he was famous, and he knew that everyone knew his name, but he didn't know that he'd been written about.

            "Didn't you know? I'd have found out all I could, if it was me. Oh, sorry about that. I'm Hermione Granger. And you are…" She trailed off, looking expectantly at Ron, who was in the middle of stuffing a Chocolate Frog into his mouth.

            "Ron Weasley." He said, his mouth still half filled with frog. Hermione quirked an eyebrow, and looked at him with a small amount of disdain. Harry was a bit disdainful as well. Harry had always been taught that manners should always be minded in public, and not speaking with one's mouth full was a fundamental rule.

            "Pleasure," Hermione said flatly, her facial expression stating that obviously wasn't much of a pleasure. "Well, you two had best change into your robes. I expect we'll be arriving soon." Hermione stood up and walked out of the compartment.

Harry stood up to take his trunk off the rack, so that he could get his robes out. He'd only just started, however, when the door to the compartment opened again. Standing in the doorway, flanked by two boys roughly the size of his cousin Dudley, was a blonde boy with a pale face and an ugly sneer. Harry immediately disliked him. It wasn't the sneer, or the superior look, or anything visible to the naked eye. It was only what was visible to Harry's magic sight. The boy was tainted by something dark. His aura was also different than most others. Most people, save that girl Hermione, had a bright green aura. The pale boy, and both his bookends, had a poisonous looking red color laced throughout their auras, making them a muddy, filthy brown color. It almost made Harry sick to look at them.

"People are saying that Harry Potter is in this compartment." The blonde boy stated. "Is it you, then?" Harry nodded, getting his stomach under control. "This is Crabbe, and Goyle. My name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy." Ron snorted at the name. "You think my name is funny, do you? I don't even need to ask yours. My father said that all Weasleys' have red hair and shabby clothes. You must be one of them, judging by your hand-me-downs." He turned to Harry. "You'll soon find out that some wizarding families are better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there." Draco extended his hand, and Harry started to debate with himself. On the one hand, he would rather do just about anything than move any closer to that sickening aura. On the other hand, the boy didn't seem know he was tainted, and was offering Harry friendship.

Harry was saved from his decision by Ron pouncing on Draco, his face as red as his hair. Harry noticed that his aura was flared, and he was in what Harry called attack mode. Draco's aura flared quickly, as did the two gargoyles flanking him. It quickly became a brawl, and Harry started to get angry. All he wanted to do was change his clothes and these people were fighting in his compartment. His aura flared out of control, and he raised his hand, holding his wand aloft. Before he could do anything with it, he lost what little hold he had on his magic, and the four boys were picked up and thrown out of the compartment rather forcefully.

Harry walked to the door of the compartment, and surveyed the damage. Ron was laid out on the floor, breathing heavily, and pretty bruised up, but ok. The two flunkies were sitting on the floor, looking very confused. The Malfoy boy was lying on his back, a look of perfect rage on his face. He glared at Harry, as if trying to kill him with the power of hate from his eyes.

"You'll pay for that, Potter!" Was the last thing Harry heard before he pulled the compartment door shut, and locked it. He changed into his robes, and sat down to wait for the train to stop.

The train stopped a little over ten minutes later, and Harry heard the message to leave his trunk where it was. Apparently, it would be taken to the school separately. Harry got off the train, and followed the rest of the first years to where the Giant man he'd met in Diagon Alley was waiting, calling for all the first years. They approached the water, and were told to board some rickety looking boats. They loaded themselves surprisingly quickly for a group of eleven-year olds, and Hagrid sent the boats moving forward with a wave from his…Umbrella? Harry thought that it was an odd magical focus, but it did glow just like a wand, with the small exception of a piece in the middle, which looked fractured.

Just as they were nearing a bend in the glowing path Harry could see floating slightly above the water, Hagrid told them that Hogwarts was just up ahead. Harry wasn't sure what it was going to look like, but he never imagined that he wouldn't be able to see it. Sure enough, just like the scene in London, All Harry could see was a blinding white glow, which overpowered everything else. Trying to stop the light, he let his magic flow, just like he did back in London. The reaction this time, however, was very different. His magic seemed to slide around the light, and the light dimmed considerably before changing color and fading from his vision. He could still feel it, and he knew it was there, but somehow it had sensed his discomfort and altered itself for him. Harry smiled at the thought.

It didn't take long for the boats to make their way to a small tunnel under the castle, where they seemed to dock themselves. The troop of first years disembarked, and made their way up the staircase, to be meet Harry's friend Minerva, who he now had to call Professor McGonagall.

The Professor walked then through the guidelines of the sorting, explaining the four houses to them, then left for a few moments. Harry could feel the flared magic of the four boys behind him, but didn't detect any hostility threatening to break through their control. He glanced behind him, to find that their hostility was actually directed at each other, the three filthy boys sneering at the redhead. His eyes sought out his friend Hermione. It wasn't so much that he knew her well, but she seemed to be likable. She also had that majestic aura around her, which Harry loved to watch. It positively pulsed with power, wrapped around her like a silken purple cocoon. It really was quite breathtaking.

His Professor came back quickly and led them into the Great Hall. It took Harry a couple of seconds to distinguish the many magical glows from the actual structures of the Great Hall. The ceiling was definitely the coolest part of the Hall. Harry watched, captivated, as the glowing aura rippled like the ocean, changing the image displayed, so it always looked like the night sky. He could hear Hermione telling a girl standing next to her that the ceiling was enchanted, but Harry already knew that. He wondered if she could see magic like him or not, but decided on not when she listed her knowledge came from a book.

Professor McGonagall placed an old hat, patched and frayed, onto a three-legged stool. All the first years gazed eagerly at the hat, but none more so than Harry. It was glowing, and glowing powerfully. It was an enchanted object, and it was old. It was very old. In fact, it was almost as old as the enchanted school felt to him. The hat's brim opened wide, and the hat began to sing.

(A/N: If you really need to read it, open your copy of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone, and turn to page117. There you have a sorting song.)

The sorting began, and Harry watched the glow from the hat change slightly for everyone that put it on. He began to get more and more nervous. The hat was a magical object, and Harry did not have the best track record with magical objects so far. His thoughts once again landed on the bracelet. Trying not to be angry, Harry started looking at his teachers, most of them had bright green auras, fairly powerful. The little man next to the end had more power than most of the rest, save the Headmaster. Before he could go any further into his investigations, the teacher with the turban caught his eye.

He could make out the face of Professor Quirrel, and knew by sight it was who he was, but the black smoky cloud around him prevented Harry from seeing anything else. It was almost as if he was…hiding. Harry opened his eyes more completely, trying to penetrate that smoky wall. The first layers peeled away rather easily, but just as he lifted another barrier, he saw a red flash, and the scar on his forehead exploded with momentary pain. Harry grabbed his forehead, but the pain was already gone. Harry was so involved thinking about it, that he missed Hermione being sorted into Gryffindor, and the Malfoy boy being sorted into Slytherin. He snapped out of his thoughts when McGonagall called his name. His stomach full of butterflies, Harry sat on the stool, and placed the Hat upon his head.

Immediately, Harry felt a presence in his mind. "Hmmm…" The presence began. "Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind either. There's talent, oh my goodness, yes – and a nice thirst to prove yourself, now that's interesting…But you're holding something back, Potter. Open yourself up and relax, so I can sort you properly.

Harry had not relaxed his mind in several years, allowing himself complete release. However, since the hat had asked him to, Harry tried to relax his controls. He let his magic slide out around him, feeling the release his mind had craved without him knowing.

"Well, that's a surprise!" The hat said. "I haven't seen anything like you in nine hundred years. Hmmm… Well, Albus is going to have my brim for this, but there really is no other place to put you."

Harry wanted to ask the hat some questions, but the presence had left his mind, turning itself outwards. From under the hat, Harry could hear the word it shouted to the Hall, and was rather dumbfounded.

"Draconus!" The hat shouted.

**A/N: I bet nobody saw that coming! Hope you enjoyed my third chapter, because it does get more interesting now that I've got him sorted. Coming soon: Rules, Regulations, and Lessons.**


	4. Chapter 04: Rules and Regulations

A/N: I hope I didn't scare anyone off when putting Harry into a fifth house. Hey, it's an AU story for a reason. All right, some review responses, then on to the chapter.

**Dmmason03: ** I agree with you about the shipping situation. I have no ships planned as of yet, as it is only a first-year book at this time. I will eventually get around to a pairing, but it will never be prominent in my stories. I'm not much of a romance author. I concentrate more on magical theory and action.

**Vicious Lily: **In this very chapter, you will discover many things about Draconus house. I hope you like what you read. I put a lot of thought into the house, and I think it came out rather nicely.

**Athenakitty: ** The symbol of Draconus house is a dragon, and its colors are purple and black.

**ZeonReborn: **Draconus is the fifth house at Hogwarts. Harry will sleep in the Draconus dormitories

**Wolfmoon: **I'm glad you like it. I'll try to keep you interested.

**Alex20: **I'm not going to change Hermione's character until way later. The powerful looking purple aura is actually important for book FIVE, if you really want to know. It's just foreshadowing for now.

**Nevets:** Harry's magical sense is not actually visual. He just picks up on the magic of the room, and his brain interprets it as visual information. So, yes it does effect the way he sees the world around him.

**Tristin Silver: **I certainly have to change book five's plot. I also need to change book three's plot, for reasons that should become apparent in this next chapter.

**Xenocide: ** Argh! You've discovered my nefarious plot! Actually, the working title for Draconus house was MageHammer, but I couldn't figure out a good symbol for it. Then, someone I was talking to mentioned the word Draconis. I liked the sound of it, and I thought of that phrase. It fit perfectly with my story, so I altered the word slightly, and made it the house name. You hit the nail right on the head with that thought!

**Aensland:** I am following a basic template when I say that the Harry/Hermione pairing is the most likely. In any love story, the romantic interest of the hero is always, or at least almost always the most important female in the story. Since Hermione is, without a doubt, the most important female character in my story, it follows that Hermione should eventually be the romantic interest of Harry. I think that's where J.K. Rowling is going with her stories as well. If she changes it, so will I. My pairings are going to be MOSTLY the same as hers. In any case, if you're waiting for the pairing to be evident, you'll be waiting for a long while. I have no plans for them to become involved as more than friends until after fifth year. Still, book six four books away, and I'm not done with this first one yet.

**

Chapter 04: Rules and Regulations

**

Silence reigned in the Great Hall. In all of the years Albus Dumbledore had been at Hogwarts, whether attending as a Student, Teacher, or Headmaster, he had never heard such silence in the school as at this very moment. If he weren't versed in physics, he would have sworn that the entire universe had stopped for a brief rest, allowing for a moment of absolute silence. Even the normal night sounds from outside had ceased.

The moment was gone as quickly as it had come, however. The silence was replaced with whispers the quickly built to an unimaginable volume. Through the whispers, Dumbledore noticed that Harry was still standing in front of the entire school. He wondered for a moment why he had not gone to sit with his house, before realizing that the Draconus house had no table. Harry's magic, which he had not reigned in yet, played with Dumbledore's senses, allowing him to realize exactly where Harry was in terms of power. He was quite powerful for an eleven year old. The magic was unfocused and untrained, but he had the raw magical strength of someone in fourth year.

While Dumbledore was pondering what to do, Minerva McGonagall got tired of seeing her young friend squirm uncomfortably in front of the eyes of the entire school. She tapped her spoon against her crystal goblet, and the ringing sound quickly silenced the hall. "Harry, since there is no table for Draconus House at the moment, feel free to sit wherever you wish." Harry scanned the hall, and immediately walked to the Gryffindor table, and sat next to the young muggle-born girl. Minerva thought her name was Granger, but couldn't be sure.

The sorting ceremony continued, but Dumbledore's thoughts were on Harry. He didn't know anything about Draconus house, other than what he'd read in his reference books about running the school. He hadn't read through those books in almost 50 years, since he'd taken over as Headmaster after Armando Dippet had retired. Looked like it was time to dig the books out again. If what he remembered was true, then Harry would need some special treatment, and some extra classes.

Finally, the sorting was done. Dumbledore stood, but couldn't think of anything intelligent to say. The only things that really came to mind were meaningless phrases that he hadn't used in years. He was scarcely aware of his mouth moving as he went through the opening phrase, but almost kicked himself when he actually said "nitwit, blubber, oddment, tweak!" He struggled not to blush, and waved his hands to summon the food from the kitchens. He glanced at Minerva, and saw her raised eyebrow. He smiled, rather embarrassed with himself.

As far as Dumbledore was concerned, dinner couldn't pass quick enough. There was a magus in his school for the first time in several hundred years, and he wanted to find answers to his questions. He'd read the stories about Draconus house for years, and had searched all over the school for any indicators that he was near to the dormitories, but had never found any. He had almost convinced himself that it was just a set of fancied stories, when Harry sat on the stool. Now he had proof that Draconus house was real, and he would finally have his many questions answered.

Finally, dessert was done, and Dumbledore stood once again. It was time for his start of term notices, but he was on autopilot, and gave the standard notices, the forest was forbidden, no magic in the halls, and a final, hurried notice about the third floor corridor being forbidden.

**

When Dumbledore told the students about the Third floor corridor on the right hand side, Harry's eyes went unfocused. A presence inserted itself into his mind, and fed him an image. The image flew down a hallway to a door. The door opened, and Harry saw a giant black shape with three heads and sharp teeth. He couldn't exactly see what it was, as the image went away too fast, but had a feeling that anyone heading into that room would most assuredly regret it.

**

Dumbledore led the students in singing the school song, then asked the prefects to lead their houses to the dormitories. The school slowly filed out, leaving a very alone Draconus student. He didn't have any prefects, or any housemates either. "Harry?" The young wizard looked at him. "Would you please come up to my office? There are some particulars about your house that we need to take care of." Harry nodded and stood. His eyes went unfocused for a moment, and he aimed his feet at the door. Dumbledore was puzzled, but followed him.

In the hall, Dumbledore noticed that Harry seemed to be following Minerva to his office. All four heads and a few of the senior teachers were asked to go to his office, so they could talk about Harry's unusual situation.

It was when he arrived at his office that he noticed the first thing out of the ordinary. His gargoyle wasn't guarding the door like normal. He knew for a fact that he hadn't told anyone his new password, and the gargoyle was under orders to prevent anyone from entering the office when he wasn't in it. He'd have to have a talk with the gargoyle later, to see why it opened. Well, at least no one had entered without him, although from the grasp that Minerva had on young Harry's arm, she'd restrained him from doing so.

Dumbledore lead the group of teachers up the steps to his office, where there were just enough chairs for everyone. Dumbledore ushered Harry to a chair, and took his seat behind his desk, which vanished into thin air, much to his surprise. Dumbledore liked the feeling of being behind a desk. It put him in a position of objectivity, so that he could make hard decisions without being forced to deal with the issue on a personal level. Yet another puzzle to solve at a later time.

Harry looked a little wary, but mostly comfortable. Every few moments, his eye would slide over to observe Severus Snape, the Head of Slytherin House. Severus had a sneer on his face, and was looking at the boy with barely disguised disdain. Dumbledore was going to break the ice with an introduction, but Harry beat him to it. "Is he going to attack me?" He asked, turning his eyes to Dumbledore. Dumbledore was taken aback by the question, as was Snape.

"I do not believe so, Harry. Why do you ask?" Dumbledore questioned.

"Every time he looks at me, his aura flares. My aunt's aura does that whenever she's really angry with Dudley, and it usually ends up with him getting punished in some way. Since his aura is flaring, I have to guess that he's angry about something concerning me, and the intensity of the flares points toward a violent outburst." Harry explained. Dumbledore was shocked. Minerva had mentioned that the boy had some ability to discern when magic was being done, or things were enchanted, but he'd never expected that he would be able to use it like some sort of empathy.

Dumbledore glance sharply at Severus, who looked like he didn't know whether to be shocked, or glare at Harry. He seemed to have settled for a shocked glare, which didn't seem very frightening. Harry was beginning to look uncomfortable, and Dumbledore decided it was time to move on. "I'm sure that Severus will be able to restrain himself, Harry. What we need to get sorted out right now, is the particulars of having a magus attending classes." Harry smiled at the word 'magus,' and Dumbledore put things together quickly. When he'd called Harry a wizard, he had frowned. Now that he looked back at it, it wasn't that the statement was unbelievable; it was the word 'wizard' that Harry had disagreed with.

"First things first." Said a voice from the shelf. The teachers all turned to look at the sorting hat, which had woken up once again. "Young Magus Potter needs a keeper. Put me on his head again." Dumbledore did this quickly, and once again the hat sat deliberating. "The boy is strong, brave and honest. He's cunning and devious when the situation requires it, and a hard worker. His mind is sharp, and he's got a good work ethic. So, I need a keeper that will refine those qualities. Snape, you dislike him far too much, so you're out." Snape sneered at the hat, which had absolutely no effect. "Sprout, he'd be good with you, but you're a bit soft to look after a magus." Sprout, who was the head of Hufflepuff house, looked a bit deflated. "Flitwick, I think you'd rather study him than discipline him, so you're out as well." The eager look vanished from the tiny Professor's face. "McGonagall…" The teacher looked steadily at the hat. "You'd be a fine choice. I'll come back to you." The hat surveyed the room. "Hooch, the boy has an ability that's right up your alley, but you're a little too far away from the everyday school environment, so you're out." The hat rotated all the way around, finally landing on the Headmaster. Dumbledore got an eager look in his eye. "No way, you old coot!" The hat laughed. "You're also to far away from the everyday for him. Better be… McGonagall!" The hat finished. Harry smiled. Obviously, Minerva had made a good impression on the boy. Harry's eyes shut in brief pain, which was gone before Dumbledore could grow concerned. "Now, put me on the keeper's head." That was done quickly, and Minerva's eyes shut the same way that Harry's had. "Now you may continue, Dumbledore."

"Alright," Dumbledore began, "first I'm going to give you a little history, Harry. A thousand years ago, there were four extremely powerful wizards and witches. These four people were so powerful that nobody would approach them. They were regarded as beings to be feared. So they made an effort to separate themselves from the rest of the world. They contracted a group of magi, which were a special type of human magic users, to help them build a castle in this Location.

"It really is rather ironic that by giving the people what they wanted, they scared people more than before. The wizarding world, as a whole, saw the creation of this castle as a threat to their safety. The four most powerful humans in the world and a pack of magi, which the wizards were afraid of anyway, were building an almost impenetrable fortress. The magical community came to the conclusion that they were trying to stage a takeover of the government.

"Now Harry, you should know that in a battle, numbers are not the only thing that matters, but numbers do tend to play a large part of any war. By the time this castle was finished, the rest of the magical world had decided to declare war upon the castle. At the time, there were just about one hundred people living in the castle; the four founders, and about ninety-six magi. When the war was declared, the magi collected their children, bringing the total number of people up to just fewer than two hundred people. The attacking forces began moving. Wizards and witches had created armies of thousands, from all over the world. This is the basis of the Great Magical War, which ended with the provisional surrender of the four founders. The provisions of their surrender forced the castle to be transformed into a school, where the younger generations would learn the magical arts from these four powerful sorcerers. Each founder had a different teaching style, so they created four separate houses to sort the students into, where they would teach the students that would respond to them best.

"They only had one small problem. They had promised sanctuary to all magi in the castle. Magi, however, did not learn in the same way as the rest. They had to be sorted into their own house, which was named Draconus. Soon after the opening of the school, the magi began to diminish. Every year, there would be less of them, until the house was finally empty. That was nine hundred years ago. Draconus house has not had a member since before the founders stopped teaching."

"I see." Said Harry. This was an interesting development. "May I ask a few questions before things get any stranger? They really don't have anything to do with this subject, but I forgot to ask the most important one before, and I'd like to ask it before I forget it again." Dumbledore nodded, and Harry turned to his first magical friend. "Professor McGonagall, why does your aura seem different than everyone else's here? It's mostly human, but I see a small part that reminds me of the biggest lion at the zoo."

The shock on McGonagall's face was comical, but she managed to get her jaw off the floor fairly quickly. "I'm an animagus, Harry. That means that I can become an animal when I wish to. The animal I become is a cat."

"Ok," Harry said, "that explains the resemblance to the lion. Can I ask you to transform for me? I just thought of something frightening, but I'd like to see if there's any chance of it being true before I say anything."

McGonagall looked confused, but nodded her head. The quickly turned into a cat, and allowed Harry to get a good look at her. His eyes narrowed, and then widened in horror. His face went deathly pale all of a sudden. McGonagall got worried for her friend quite quickly, and transformed back. "Harry? Are you all right?"

"Professor, a first year in your house, by the name of Ron Weasley, may be keeping an animagus as a pet. When you transformed, the animalistic aura became the prominent one, the human part fading almost completely into the background. When I saw Ron's rat on the train, I saw a little bit of human in it's aura, but didn't think anything about it. Now that I've seen what you look like when you transform, I'm almost sure that the rat is actually not a rat at all." Harry said.

The room became quite animated at this little revelation, but calmed down after Dumbledore stated that he would investigate personally. "Now Harry, do you have any other questions?" Harry's eyes were unfocused again, and he shook his head. Dumbledore started to explain some of the particulars that needed to be solved, but Harry stood and walked over to one of the pictures. He whispered something in the ear of the portrait of Rowena Ravenclaw, and the portrait laughed and nodded. Before Dumbledore could ask what he was doing, the small frame slid forward, revealing a drawer full of badges. Each badge had a picture of a silver dragon spouting purple flames emblazoned on it. Harry affixed one to his cloak, and slid the drawer shut. He whispered to the portrait once again, and the woman laughed and nodded once more. "Well, I guess that answers one of the problems."

"Sir?" Harry asked. "I have another question. Am I going to be able to ride the winds in the morning while I'm here? I haven't done it in over a week, and I'm looking forward to being able to do it again."

The question confused Dumbledore. "Could you explain what you mean by 'riding the wind,' Harry? I've never heard of that before."

"It would probably be easier to show you." Harry said, standing up from his chair. He walked to the back of the room, where everyone could see him properly. Harry concentrated for a moment, and then the oddest thing happened. Sprouting from his back, right at the shoulder blades, were a set of wings. They were very large, glowing white wings, with a span of about 15 feet Dumbledore reached out to touch one, his mouth hanging open. His hand passed right through it. "The wings aren't real, Professor. They don't even move. My aunt Petunia said that it's a 'physical manifestation of magical ability.'" I don't really know what she meant by that, but I do know that my wings let me ride the wind." As if to prove his point, Harry rose about four feet from the ground. Madam Hooch was gaping openly, and couldn't seem to get her jaw off the floor.

When he set himself back on the floor, his wings disappeared. Dumbledore took the opportunity to go into research mode, followed closely by Professor Flitwick. "Harry," he said, "Could you remove your shirt and turn around? I'd like to see where your wings appear from." Harry shrugged, and did as the Headmaster asked. When the teachers examined his exposed shoulders, they saw something strange. Arranged in a three layered, tight spiral were hundreds of tiny little symbols created from what appeared to be scar tissue. "Harry, do you know what these markings mean?"

"No I don't, Professor. My Aunt drew the symbols for me, so I could see them, but I couldn't understand what it meant. Aunt Petunia thought it might be some kind of language, but nobody she talked to could recognize the symbols." Harry said.

"Alright Harry, it has been a very tiring evening for everyone. All that's left is to figure out where you will be sleeping." Dumbledore said.

It was McGonagall that responded before anyone could make a suggestion. "I would think that he would be sleeping in the Draconus dormitory."

"Minerva, nobody has been able to find those particular dormitories since the last magus left the school. He'll need somewhere else to sleep until we can find them.

"I know where they are." Harry said quietly.

"You do, Harry?" Dumbledore asked. Snape snorted his disbelief, and Harry cast a heated glance at him. This man had been just on the verge of attacking him all night, and now he was questioning his honor? Snape returned the glance with a hateful sneer, and Harry lost it. He called for that presence from earlier, and felt it respond. He pictured Snape falling into a hole, and winding up in the Great hall, and sent the feeling of a question. He felt the acceptance of the presence, along with the feeling of anticipation.

"I know the location as well." Said McGonagall. "The hat gave it to us when it was on our heads." She could see the questioning look in Dumbledore's eyes, but couldn't satisfy his curiosity this time. "I'm sorry Albus, but rule number two of Draconus house states that no one but members of Draconus house and their keepers are to know the location." She could see his disappointment. "The only exception to the rule is any honorary member may visit the dorm, provided that they are accompanied by a member. So, all you have to do is do something worthy of Harry's approval, and you may be considered an honorary member.

"There are rules governing just that house?" Snape cut in. McGonagall nodded. "What are they?"

"You will find out rules as they are broken." McGonagall said. "It is the Draconus custom to keep secrets until events force the release of information." Snape nodded, realizing the Slytherin nature of that rule. It seemed that all four houses were blended together when creating the Draconus house. Seeing the shocked looks on the other Professors' faces, McGonagall explained herself. "In order to properly govern my young charge, I have to know about the customs of the Draconus house. The sorting hat fed my mind the information that I need. Now, I will escort Magus Potter to his dormitory. It has been a long day, and I'm sure that we are all tired. McGonagall led Harry to the door, and down the stairs. Snape took two steps, as if to follow, before the floor opened beneath him, swallowing him up quickly. He barely had the time to be shocked, however before he ended up in the Great Hall

**

After twisting and turning through the halls for around ten minutes, Harry and Minerva arrived at their destination. It was an unadorned stone wall, with no markings at all. Minerva had no idea how to enter, but Harry did. Lifting his hand, he placed it on the stone and traced a pattern that only he could see. The wall parted, much like the archway into Diagon Alley, and they walked into the room.

It was as if no one had left. There was no dust, no grime, no wear and tear of time on the furniture. "Well Harry," McGonagall said, "I'll leave you here for the night. Tomorrow, we'll take care of your schedule." She left Harry to explore the dormitories.

Harry was far too exhausted to take the time to explore his new home, and fell asleep right on the couch, in front of the fire.

**

A/N: Well, it's a bit shorter than I'd hoped, but I wanted to separate classes from orientation. There were so many questions to answer in this chapter, that I din't want to add classes and more confusion to the mix. So, join me for my next chapter, Classes and Confusion!


	5. Chapter 05: Classes and Confusion

A/N: I was struck by inspiration, and I just had to write this chapter out. I hope you enjoy it!!!  
  
*****  
Chapter 05: Classes and Confusion  
*****  
  
It was an interesting week of classes for Harry. The presence in his mind helped him from class to class, so he never got lost, and the Gryffindor students were nice to him once they found out that Professor Mcgonagall was his keeper' as well. Harry noticed that the Hufflepuff students avoided him, the Ravenclaws looked like they wanted to study him, and the Slytherin students looked at him in the same way one might look at a piece of dirt stuck to their nicest shoes. Those looks made him uncomfortable, but he tried to ignore it as much as possible.  
  
It seemed that the only Slytherin that Harry couldn't avoid was Draco Malfoy. The boy just seemed to go out of his way to make sure he was always around to insult Harry. By the end of the first week, Harry was getting angry at the boy and had begun plotting his revenge. Plotting revenge was the easy part for Harry, since his mind was naturally cunning, but he was having more trouble coming up with a story that wasn't a lie. He knew from the sorting hat that Magi were not permitted to lie while inside the wards of the school. The wards could detect the lie, and would punish the offending student.  
  
However, the presence in Harry's mind, which he was beginning to think of as the school's voice, apparently decided to help him out. One morning, right after a huge thunderstorm, Draco Malfoy walked into the Great Hall, soaking wet.  
  
Professor Snape! The boy yelled. Somebody opened my closet, and drenched all my clothes with rainwater! Harry had a vision of a hole opening in the grounds, and water falling in in rivers, bringing mud and old grass with it. Then the vision's eye' flew down the hole, and right into Draco's closet. Harry had to try really hard not to laugh out loud.  
  
*****  
  
At the end of the first week, it was customary for the teachers to gather in the staff room, so they could talk about the first years. During these talks, they always outlined how the class went, and described any unusual aptitudes shown by the students. Naturally, talk turned to the most unusual student of the first years, and the only member of Draconus House, Harry Potter.  
  
He shows an amazing amount of power, began Flitwick, but he can't direct it in any way. His wand movements are very precise, and his pronunciation impeccable, but none of his spells seem to work. Flitwick then related his experience with Harry during Charms class.  
  
_After picking himself off the floor, Professor Flitwick set them to work on the simplest spell in his book. It was a spell most first year students could do by the end of the first class. In fact, it was just a spell to replicate what normally happened when the wand was first put into their hands. He called it the glitter charm. All it did was cause a flurry of colored sparks to erupt from the end of the wand.  
  
Professor Flitwick was fully expecting Harry Potter to work the charm first, since it seemed obvious that he was quite powerful, but a girl named Hermione Granger managed it first, earning herself five points for Gryffindor House. One by one, each student made the charm work, and the air was thick with colored sparks, which faded after a few seconds. The only one who couldn't seem to make the charm work, was Harry Potter.  
  
The young man was sitting alone at his table, trying his hardest to work the charm. Professor Flitwick watched for a moment, and noted his execution. It was perfect. The wand movement was perfect. It was graceful, and didn't look forced. His pronunciation was also perfect. He spoke each syllable, and put the emphasis in the correct place. There was no real reason for Harry's inability to work the charm, and Flitwick didn't really know what to make of it._  
  
I really have no explanation for why he would be struggling. Flitwick finished.  
  
Snape began silkily, the boy has no real talent at magic, and it was a mistake for him to be here.  
  
Flitwick said flatly. At the end of the class period, he got frustrated that he couldn't get the spell to work, and slammed his hand on the desk. The windows took me a few hours to repair, they exploded into so many pieces. Snape didn't seem to have an answer for that.  
  
It was at that point which Albus Dumbledore walked into the room, wearing the Sorting Hat. Are we discussing young Mr. Potter? He asked. When several teachers nodded, he continued. The Sorting Hat seems to have taken an interest in our young Magus, and requested to be here tonight. So, anything interesting to report? Albus listened patiently to Flitwick as he retold his story. Interesting, but I have no ideas right now. At this point the Sorting seemed to be speaking to Dumbledore. Alright, Sorting Hat, you may speak after we've finished our staff meeting. Now Severus, there has been a rumor going around the school about something interesting happening in Harry's potions class. Can you tell us about it?  
  
Snape looked decidedly uncomfortable with saying anything that might be taken as praise, but knew that the Headmaster expected an answer. Potter seems to have a natural aptitude for predicting the effects of a potion. He can predict what MIGHT happen when two ingredients are mixed. I think it might be some type of scanning ability.  
  
_Snape was just finishing up his opening speech, when he noticed the Potter brat was not paying attention. He decided to make an example of him quickly, and make sure he knew his place. He snapped. What is the difference between Monk's Hood and Wolfs bane? The girl next to him put her hand up, but Potter looked quite bewildered.  
  
I don't know, sir. He said. Snape sneered. it was going perfectly.  
  
Well, it seems that fame isn't everything. Tell me, Potter, where I would look if I wanted to find a bezoar.  
  
I don't know, sir. Was the response, exactly as Snape wanted.  
  
Didn't think you'd need to crack a book, eh Potter? Snape sneered. This was going to be the best one. Tell me then, what would I get if I were to combine powdered root of Asphodel with an infusion of Wormwood?  
  
To Snape's infinite surprise, Harry actually looked relieved. This was an O.W.L. potion, and he thought he knew what it was? May I please see the ingredients, sir? was the question he asked, which caught Snape off guard once again. Completely nonplussed, Snape retrieved the ingredients from the store room, and set them on Harry's desk.  
  
Harry considered them, one at a time, and then closed his eyes, appearing to be in deep thought. Snape was about to say something scathing, but his eyes opened again. I can't be certain, Professor, but I think it's a sleeping potion of some kind. A powerful one, if it is a sleeping potion.  
  
Snape was trying not to gape. The ingredients were harmless by themselves, and neither one had any sort of narcotic qualities when separate. How did this boy know they would be a sleeping potion? So powerful, Potter, that the potion is called Draught of Living Death.' As for the other two questions, a bezoar is found in the stomach of a goat, and will protect you from most poisons. Monk's Hood and Wolfs bane are the same plant, also called Aconite. He looked away from Harry. Well? Why aren't you copying this down?  
  
_ I was unsure of what to do with this knowledge, Headmaster, so I waited until this meeting to bring it up. Snape said.  
  
Well, it appears that he's getting better with his scanning talent. Commented the Sorting Hat. He'll be the greatest scanner in the last 900 years, once he's fully developed.  
  
Snape arched an eyebrow. As far as i can tell, Headmaster Dumbledore is the greatest scanner in the world. His talent is unmatched in the rest of the population.  
  
Alright then, said the Sorting Hat, a test. Dumbledore, what can you tell me about young Magus Potter's magic? And no guesses, just what you've sensed so far, since I know you haven't scanned him actively yet.  
  
Dumbledore looked thoughtful. Well, he's a young man, with great potential. When he relaxes his mental blocks, his raw magical strength is equal to a student of fourth year. That's all I've been able to tell so far. I'll understand more once I've scanned him completely.  
  
I'm sure that you will. Now, would you like to know what Harry knows about you? Dumbledore thought in the affirmative, even though his head never moved. I thought you might. First, Harry knows that you are the most powerful person in this school, even though you've been hiding your power from the students. He knows that you are a partial beast-speaker, although he doesn't yet know that he knows. He knows that you've used Dark Magic in the last ten years, although he can't yet tell when, and he knows that you've lied to him on at least three occasions. If a hat could look smug, then the Sorting hat would have right then. This is as a first year, with no formal training in the art of scanning. When he's fully trained and developed, his gift will be astonishing in it's accuracy and complexity. I'm surprised that you would contest his abilities, Snape, having seen them in action for yourself. I know that the old coot under my brim couldn't have managed to predict a potion's properties just by looking at the ingredients.  
  
Dumbledore said. We'll give him some time to develop his scanning talent, then I will see about training him to discern more. Hat, do you have any ideas as to why Magus Potter would have a particularly strong scanning talent?  
  
I most certainly do. Time for a history lesson, so get comfy. The hat said. Magi are born to fight, you might say. Most of their magic is used specifically in battle, or in wartime situations at least. On a battlefield, there are many threats, some greater than others. The Magi developed the scanning ability to help them prioritize targets. After all, why waste time on defeating thirty opponents only to have the real threat to your safety sneak up on you. The ability is a natural gift that comes with the Magus aura. The real mystery is how Magus Potter came to be a Magus. It's not a natural occurrence. Something happened to the boy that turned him INTO a Magus. He wasn't born one.  
  
A question for another time. Dumbledore said. Now, about Magus Potter's educational dilemma. What can we do?  
  
That's an easy to solve problem. The hat said. Let him take notes on everything that you're working on right now, and then I'll help him adapt what he's learning to his needs. I can't help him yet, though. Who here is going to work on a sustained spell in the near future? Flitwick said he was going to begin the Levitation charm soon. Good. When it comes time for him to begin casting the spell, send him to me. I'll need a teacher to help, but i can get him over his stumbling block without a problem.  
  
I hope you can. Professor Mcgonagall said. His wand seems to be useless in his hands. He's getting quite discouraged.  
  
The hat practically yelled. What on Earth is he using a wand for? Magi don't use wands! No wonder the boy is having troubles. In a Magus' hands, a wand is quite useful, but in a very different way than it would be in the hands of a wizard.  
  
Well then, we will look forward to seeing how you handle our young Magus. Dumbledore said, ending that discussion right away. The fact that harry wouldn't be able to use his wand much in a duel was discouraging. He'd just gotten a letter from Ollivander about Harry's wand. Now, it seemed, the advantage was negated.  
  
*********  
  
It was the next day, and Harry was making his way to the Headmaster's office. He had been called out of Lunch, which he didn't really mind. He was always uncomfortable in the Great hall, since he was alone at his little table, and he could feel the eyes in the Hall on him.  
  
The Gargoyle jumped aside as he approached, and Harry once again wondered why it did that. It had done it once before, but Harry still didn't know what it meant. He followed the stairs as they rotated their way to the top. Once there, he knocked softly on the door, and waited until the Headmaster called him in.  
  
You wanted to see me, sir? Harry asked, stepping into the room.  
  
Yes Harry, I did. The Headmaster said. The first night you were here, you brought a potential security risk to our attention. I thought you might be of some assistance as I address the problem. A panicked squeak alerted Harry to the caged rat on the Headmaster's desk. Professors Mcgonagall and Snape have told me you can perceive magic visually, and that you have some scanning ability. With your permission, I would like your help in scanning this rat, just so I can get a feel for how advanced your scanning gift might be.  
  
I can do that. Harry said. The Sorting Hat fell off of it's shelf, and right onto Harry's head. Harry giggled, then got serious. Shall I start? Dumbledore nodded. Ok, then. The first thing I can tell you is that this is not a rat. I've seen a few rats in the castle, but none with a partially human aura. So far, I've only seen one magical rat in the castle so far, and its aura was yellow in color. This rat has a mostly yellow aura, but there are small portions of green mixed in. Green is a color that I can only associate with human auras, since I haven't seen anything else with a green aura.  
  
Very good, Harry. Myself, I have determined that this was indeed a human animagus. What else can you tell me?  
  
Well, I don't need to see its magic to tell that the rat is frightened, but looking at its aura, I can tell you that it's terrified. The aura is flared to the maximum, meaning that the rat is scared enough to do something violent to aid itself in escaping. If it were in somebody's hand, that somebody would have been bitten. I can also tell you that this rat-man is having a hard time holding his form right now. The human parts of his magic keep trying to overwhelm the rat parts. Harry said. Right now, I think that the fear of being hurt in the transformation is the only thing that's keeping him in this form. If he wasn't in a cage, he probably couldn't keep it together.  
  
That's an interesting bit of information, Harry. Professor Dumbledore said. I must confess that I did not notice that information when I performed my own scan.  
  
Sorry, Professor, and forgive the change of subject, but why is the Sorting hat on my head? Harry said. Dumbledore chuckled a bit.  
  
Dumbledore said, You are a Magus, and have been having trouble in class so far. The Sorting Hat, being more of an expert on the Magi than any of us, has volunteered to help you learn to cast spells properly. That way, you should be able to keep up with your year mates. I'm guessing the hat wanted to see how you perceive the world around you, so that he could better assist you in your studies.  
  
Ok, that sounds good. Harry said. So, who's our little Rat-man?  
  
Sadly, we must proceed in this investigation without you for the moment. Dumbledore said. This Rat is what we call an unregistered Animagus, and must be dealt with in a criminal investigation. Since you are aware of the situation, I will do my best to keep you informed of the situation with our little rat, here. However, criminal investigation is best left to Professionals.  
  
Harry was a little put out at being left out, but hid it. I can accept that, I suppose. Let me know if you need my help with anything else, Professor. Harry then left the office.  
  
Rest assured, Harry, Dumbledore murmured, as his eyes narrowed at the rat in question, we will find out what's going on.  
  
*********  
  
Classes continued for the next week without incident, at least until Thursday. Thursday, right after class, Harry was supposed to have his first flying lesson, along with Gryffindor and Slytherin. He wasn't looking forward to dealing with Slytherins, but he was looking forward to seeing exactly how wizards used brooms to fly. There was a small altercation between Draco Malfoy and a Gryffindor boy named Neville Longbottom at the breakfast table, which seemed to have something to do with a small glass ball that belonged to Neville. Professor Mcgonagall handled it quickly, however.  
  
Classes dragged on throughout the day, as things do when one is looking forward to them ending. Finally, Harry found himself walking out onto the grounds, to have their first flying lesson. Both the Slytherins and the Gryffindors were bragging quite loudly about their experiences on a broom, the most glorified one being Malfoy's daring escape from muggles in a helicopter. Harry could not help but chuckle at the obvious aura shifting going on. Each and every one of these stories was either greatly exaggerated, or an out and out lie.  
  
Madam Hooch was a no-nonsense teacher, and had them jump right in to the basics of gripping the broom. Harry was greatly amused, as were several Gryffindors, to find that Draco had been gripping his broom wrong for years. Harry didn't see a difference in the magic depending on where the hands were, so he assumed that it was a control issue.  
  
Harry was trying to pay attention to the lesson, but he really didn't like the feel of the broom. It was clumsy, and probably couldn't maneuver as well as he could if he was unencumbered. He wasn't really paying close attention, but snapped back to reality when Madam Hooch told them that she wanted them to push up off the ground when she blew the whistle. She was counting down, but the boy named Neville got a bit jumpy, and kicked off early. He rose high into the air, before falling off his broom and crashing to the ground.  
  
Madam Hooch rushed over, and examined him a bit, before announcing that he'd broken his wrist, and had to go to the hospital wing. She told all of them not to use the brooms until she got back. If I see a single broom in the air, the one riding it will find themselves out of Hogwarts before you can say Quidditch. She said.  
  
As soon as she was out of sight, Harry felt the malicious glee of Malfoy's filthy aura. He turned slowly, already knowing what to expect. Sure enough, Malfoy had Neville's little glass ball in his hands, and a look of evil enjoyment on his face. Harry was sick to his stomach at the thought. How could this boy take enjoyment in watching other people being hurt? It was enough to make Harry dangerously angry.  
  
Look! Fat boy dropped his new toy! He exclaimed, and the rest of the Slytherins laughed.  
  
Malfoy, give it back! Yelled one of the Gryffindor girls, that Harry didn't recognize. He was sure that he had heard her name a few times, but he couldn't remember it.  
  
Ooh! Sticking up for Longbottom? Said one of the Slytherin girls. I never thought that you'd go for fat little crybabies, Parvati!  
  
Harry was standing there silently, but decided it was time to act. Give that ball here, Malfoy. He said quietly. The rest of the students went silent as they watched the exchange.  
  
Draco smiled nastily. I don't think so, Potter. I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find. Up a tree, maybe? Without further ado, Malfoy kicked off the ground and flew up above the nearest tree. What's the matter Potter? Beyond your reach?  
  
Harry picked up his broom to make chase, but was stopped by Hermione. Harry, you can't! You heard what Madam Hooch said; you'll be expelled! She said. harry decided that she had a point. he handed her the broom. She looked relieved.  
  
Draco looked a bit smug. Ha! Look at Potter cower!  
  
What happened next would forever be remembered by each and every student there. Harry closed his eyes, raised his arms, and a pair of huge glowing wings erupted from his back. he opened his eyes, and the blazing green irises focused on Malfoy. Almost instantaneously, Harry was on level with draco, standing in midair, about ten feet away. Malfoy was stunned speechless. Give it here now, or I'll knock you clean off that broom!  
  
Harry's words jolted Malfoy back to reality. Oh really? he tried to sneer. Harry could feel the fear in his aura, and decided to scare him even more. Faster than Draco could react, Harry flew right over his head, grabbing a few strands of hair on the way by. (A/N: Harry has been flying for a long time, and has great control of his flying.)  
  
As soon as Malfoy had turned around, he noticed a small stinging sensation on his scalp. It felt like someone had pulled his hair. Harry caught his attention, and held his hand up. He then blew the hairs into the wind. No Crabbe or Goyle to protect you up here, Malfoy! Harry yelled, pinning Draco with a glare that promised much pain and suffering. Draco seemed to panic, and threw the glass ball as hard as he could away from Harry. He then retreated to the ground as fast as possible.  
  
Harry wasn't concerned with Draco anymore, now that the ball was no longer in his possession. His new concern was the fate of the little glass ball. Already it was beginning to plummet towards the ground, and It was a good distance away. Harry took off after it. He was fast, but the ball had gravity's acceleration on its side, plus a big head start. He was gaining on it, but it was closing in on the ground fast. Finally, he caught it, and spun around it midair. He jammed on his brakes as quickly as possible, but was too close to the ground to pull out. His one foot hit the ground, and he bent his knee immediately. The other leg was already bent, so he landed that one on its knee. He spread his arms to balance himself. He took his position into account, and figured that it must have looked quite impressive to everyone else. It really was a perfect landing, given the circumstances. He closed the connection to his wings, and they disappeared as he stood. Everyone was staring at him in awe.  
  
HARRY POTTER! Harry cringed at the voice. It didn't sound as if Mcgonagall was impressed. Harry could tell she was both angry and relieved at the same time. Never-- In all my time at Hogwarts!  
  
It wasn't his fault, Professor. The Parvati girl tried to interrupt.  
  
Be quiet, Miss Patil! Mcgonagall snapped. How DARE you -- might have broken your neck!  
  
But Malfoy...  
  
ENOUGH, Mr. Weasley! Mcgonagall snapped. Potter, follow me. She stalked off.  
  
Harry followed her, a bit apprehensive. He seemed to be in trouble, but he couldn't think of what he'd done wrong. There was no rule against what he'd done, was there? She walked back to her office, and sat down in her chair. Looking out the window, Harry had a perfect view of the grounds on which he and Malfoy had played out their little drama. You saw the whole thing, then?  
  
Yes Harry, I did. She didn't seem as angry now, and she had used his first name. I believe what Mr. Malfoy did was deplorable, but I am not at liberty to punish him, since I am neither the teacher of his class, nor his Head of House. However, I am your Keeper, so I can punish you for breaking the rules.  
  
Harry was confused. Professor Mcgonagall? What rule did I break? Mcgonagall looked at him disdainfully for a moment, before realizing that he honestly didn't know.  
  
For heaven's sake, Harry! My window was open, and I heard Madam Hooch tell all of you not to fly without her there to supervise!  
  
Professor Mcgonagall, Harry said, Madam Hooch said no BROOMS in the air. I obeyed the rules, and handed mine to Hermione Granger before I took off. I had never ridden a broomstick before, and wasn't ready to test myself on it just yet, so I fell back on riding the wind, which I've been doing for about three years now. Professor Mcgonagall's face had changed from anger to surprise as she realized that Harry was right. I'll admit I was a little scared as I got close to the ground, but as the muggles say, I really stuck' the landing.  
  
I guess you're right, Harry, and I apologize for being cross with you, but you really had me scared for a moment. His keeper said. I will however ask you to refrain from any more aerial acrobatics until I can figure out how to help you improve on this wonderful talent of yours. You have a real gift for flying, much like your father did. He preferred a broomstick, of course, but he was a wonderful Quidditch player.  
  
********  
  
It was dinner time on that day, when Draco sauntered up to the small table in the corner, under the Draconus banner. Having a last meal, Potter? When do you catch the train back to the muggles? His cronies, who had sauntered over as well, laughed.  
  
Harry's eyes flashed, but he didn't dignify the question with a response. Instead, You seem to be a lot braver now that you're back on the ground, Malfoy. was the cool response.  
  
I could take on on anytime on my own. Draco sneered. Tonight, if you like. You up for a Wizard's duel, Potter?  
  
If you want to challenge me, you know the words, Malfoy. Make it official. Harry said. he was hoping that Draco wouldn't do it, but he was to be disappointed.  
  
Alright Potter, if you insist. Draco sighed, then switched to a very formal tone. I, Draco Lucius Malfoy, hereby challenge Magus Harry Potter to a duel.  
  
Harry said, in an equally formal voice. He really didn't want to fight, but he didn't have much of a choice. Draco opened his mouth to set terms, but a gong sounded from above the staff table. Harry rose from his chair, as Draco spun around to find out what was going on.  
  
It was Mcgonagall who stood to address the student body. Magus Harry potter has been challenged to a duel. She said in a very formal voice. Professor Snape, who had been watching Draco speak to Potter, rose to remind Minerva that dueling was against the rules at Hogwarts. She cut him off before he could begin, however. According to the rules governing Draconus house, the young Magus must duel with anyone in his year or younger, if they challenge him to a formal duel. The Headmaster rose this time, to try to circumvent the rules, but he was also cut off. The challenge has been made, and accepted. The duel will take place after dinner. She then sat down.  
  
Draco's pale face turned a bit green, and Harry watched his muddy brown aura twist and turn in fear. It was obvious to Harry, even though he was untrained, that Draco had not intended on dueling with him in front of the entire school, if he had planned on dueling with him at all. Given the Slytherin house's reputation, it was entirely possible that he had intended to lure Harry out of bed to get him in trouble. Harry couldn't help but smirk to himself. Whatever the plan had been, it had blown up in his face.  
  
For the rest of dinner, Harry kept his eyes on Draco. He was sure that Draco was going to lose this duel, but he wanted to make sure he was ready for anything that Draco could throw at him. The Slytherins around him kept whispering things in his ear, and Harry could see the confidence building inside the muddy brown aura. He guessed that the others were reminding Draco that Harry had yet to manage even the simplest spell with his wand. Harry was a little worried about that himself, but only in terms of his schoolwork. He had no intentions of using his wand in this duel.  
  
At the end of dinner, the Headmaster cleared the tables away, and called the dueling platform to the center of the room. Harry took his place on the one end, and Draco took the other. Professor Mcgonagall, who was officiating, counted down from three, and the duel began. Harry stepped into a defensive posture, ready to dodge any attack from Draco, but the blonde boy really didn't know what to do with himself in a duel. He flicked his wand at Harry, and a few sparks flew from the tip, but the attack was totally unimpressive. Harry didn't really want to fight, so he decided to end it the same way he had stopped the bullies in his school from picking on him. He raised his hand, palm towards the ceiling, and concentrated. A few sparkles of energy appeared in the air, and were pulled together to form a little ball of magic. Harry pulled it in towards his body, then snapped his wrist towards Draco. the little ball, which resembled a glowing golf ball, struck Draco right in the chest, and the blonde boy crumpled to the floor, unconscious. Harry normally used that little trick when fighting with bullies. Magic ball was so small that nobody noticed it, and it always knocked them out cold for a few moments. Harry was declared the winner.  
  
Professor Snape rushed to Malfoy's aid, but the blonde Slytherin was already beginning to stir. Seconds later, he opened his eyes and sat up. He looked ready to continue, but was told that he'd lost, and had been knocked out for about fifteen seconds. He was quite angry at losing the duel, and felt humiliated. Professor Snape took him to the Hospital wing to be checked out, and Harry went to his dormitory.  
  
***********  
  
A/N: I hope you enjoyed that chapter, and I have a favor to ask of someone. I've lost my plot idea for Time Wizard, and was wondering if someone would like to take it and run. If you're interested, send me an e-mail!  
  
Next Time: Harry's trouble with a scheming Ministry, A feast, and a Troll.


	6. Chapter 06: Halloween

**

Chapter 06: Halloween

**

"Concentrate on the spell, Harry." The hat said for the thirteenth time. It was the night before Halloween, and Harry was learning his first real spell. He really didn't know why the hat wanted the first one to be a sustained spell, and the hat wouldn't tell him directly. The hat simply said that when he figured out the spell, he would understand.

"I'm trying!" Harry exclaimed, growing frustrated. This had been going on for well over an hour, and it looked as if Professor McGonagall was getting tired of levitating the same object over and over. Harry thought that it must have been getting monotonous for her, especially since she'd only been levitating a feather. Professor Flitwick looked quite bored over in the corner as well. He'd come to help Harry learn the charm, and was quite interested in seeing how Harry would need to adapt the spell so he could use it. "It's the same stupid yellow color that it's been for the last hour!"

"Ok, I understand that, Potter, but you're not concentrating on the magic!" The hat said, growing frustrated with the boy's frustration. It was giving him a hat-ache. "Instead of just looking at the magic, try and see where it comes from, what the magic is doing, and how it's doing it. Focus all your senses on the spell, not just your eyes."

Harry was about to jerk the hat off of his head, but decided to try this one more time. He started at the feather, but couldn't make out much more than a yellow glow. The color was not so important, the hat told him, but it was a lovely golden yellow. Harry followed the trail of yellow back to his Professor's wand-tip. There, he noticed something. Swirling at the tip of the wand was a small miasma of colors, shifting from blue to green, with yellow mixed in. following the shifting colors back along McGonagall's arm, he noticed the next bit of interesting information. Her aura was pulsing slightly. He strained to make it out, it was so faint, but it was definitely pulsing.

There was a pattern to the pulses. Harry could almost hear the pattern when he concentrated on it. Shifting even more of his focus to the pulsing, he found he could hear it. It was a simple rhythm. Harry could even feel the pattern as he followed it down the Professor's arm again. This time, he could see the ball of swirling magic was actually swirling and mixing in time to the pulsing. He let his eyes travel even further, and found he could see small pulses of magic traveling down the yellow thread connecting the wand to the feather. He shifted his focus back to the feather and noticed something odd. The pulses were arranging themselves in some form of circular pattern. There were three distinct pulses, and they were forming some sort of shape. Harry could almost see it, but it was very blurry.

Shifting his focus back to his eyes, the sound faded, and the pattern became clear. "I see a pattern!" Harry said. This was more progress than he'd made in the last hour, and it was quite exciting.

"Very good, Potter." The hat said. "Professor, you may stop." Professor McGonagall let the feather drop. "Now, Potter, comes the fun part. I've looked into your mind to see the pattern that you saw, and it was just what I wanted to see. Now, we need to get you to be able to cast the spell yourself. Ok, first we get into what the pattern is. That pattern is how your magic is interpreting what you see. That is a facet of your scanning ability. Soon, you'll be able to identify these patterns, which will tell you what sort of spells wizards are using. For right now, we just need to know that that particular pattern is what your magic sees as a levitation charm. So, think about the pattern for a moment." Harry pictured the pattern he'd seen. It was quite simple, really, just a few squiggly lines. "It is quite simple, isn't it? That is a basic spell pattern for you. In this spell, there are no identifiers, which means that the spell remains the same no matter what you target with it. Some spells change dependant on what you are doing with them, such as most transfiguration spells. Let's not worry about these now, though."

"Ok, so what do I do?" Harry said. He was very anxious to work his first real spell.

"Close your eyes, Harry." The hat said. He could feel Harry's excitement, but needed Harry relaxed for this part of the process. "Visualize the pattern. Picture each and every detail, one symbol at a time." The hat used his special type of magic to project the image of the symbol more clearly into Harry's head. Once he was sure that Harry had a good mental picture, he took him further. "Remember the way you opened the door of the Draconus dormitory? Project your magic to your finger like you are opening the wall. Now, draw a circle in the air in front of you." Harry did as was told. There were gasps from both of the professors. "Keep your eyes closed!" The hat admonished him. "Concentrate on the circle. Now, draw the first symbol out. Follow that symbol with the next one, and make sure you place it in the right spot in the circle. Keep your eyes closed, Harry, it doesn't need to be perfect. Your magic will correct small imperfections in the symbol. Ok, now finish the circle off with the last pattern. Excellent. Open your eyes, Harry, but keep concentrating on the symbols you just drew."

Harry opened his eyes, and was shocked by what he saw. There, right in front of him, was a glowing yellow circle, with the pattern of symbols drawn neatly inside. It was quite pretty. "Wow" was the only response he could come up with.

"Keep concentrating on the symbol, Harry." The hat was speaking to him telepathically now, or in whatever way the hat spoke to his head. "Raise your hand to the symbol, and place the palm of your hand close to it." Harry did as he was told, and felt the symbol lock in place near his hand. "Now you can move the symbol around as you please. As long as you concentrate on it, it will follow your hand. Move your hand to point at the feather. Good, now use your finger, and point at the feather, directly through the symbol."

Harry did it, just as the hat told him to. The effect was very startling. As soon as he touched the symbol, a yellow beam issued forth from his finger, and headed towards the feather very quickly. However, it missed the feather by about an inch, and hit the table instead. The table rose about an inch off the floor, and fell back to the ground. Harry hadn't expected to feel a physical strain, and had let the table slip.

"Your aim was a bit off, Harry. I see you felt the physical effect of that spell also." The hat said. "Since this was your first time using this spell, your magic needs to get used to lifting objects properly. Until that happens, you won't be able to lift anything that you couldn't normally lift physically. Your magic is using your muscles as a gauge of what it should be able to do, and until you get past that, it'll be that way. That's why we start with a feather."

"Now I understand the reason you needed the sustained spell to teach me." Harry said. "It took me a long time to see the pattern, so the magic needed to be constant, right?"

"Exactly, Harry." The hat said. "Now, I believe it is time for bed. Tomorrow is Halloween, and it should be a big day for you, now that you can cast the spell that your classmates will be trying tomorrow. Now, you won't feel left out."

**

As it turned out, it would indeed be a big day for Harry. Not because he could finally perform magic along with the rest of his class, but because of what happened, both before and after the class.

The day started normally enough. Harry woke early, as he always did, showered in his private bathroom, which was private only because he was the only member of his house, and got dressed in his purple combat robes. He had caused a bit of a sensation when he'd shown up the first morning in different robes than everyone else, but wasn't punished for it. After Snape tried to take points for violating the dress code, Harry explained to him that one, Draconus house didn't play the house point game, and two, the combat robes he was wearing were the standard dress code for Draconus students. A quick visit with Professor McGonagall confirmed Harry's story, and Harry was allowed to attend classes in his rather strange uniform. It caused quite a commotion with the students a first. After all, even the purebloods hadn't ever seen proper combat robes.

Combat robes were exactly what they sounded like. They were robes specifically designed for wizards to fight in. Rather than dressy looking bath robes, these robes were closed on the front, with slits up both sides, making them resemble a poncho. A thick dragon hide belt was buckled around the waist, a silver buckle bearing the Draconus insignia holding it together. The cloak worn over top of the robes was black, hemmed with silver runes on each edge. Underneath the robes, a pair of black canvas pants was worm, the same silver runes embroidered around the cuffs and the waist. A shirt was also worn under the robes, equal parts black and purple, with the same runes around the cuffs, neck, and waist. The robes also were complete with dragon hide boots. On the whole, his uniform was quite expensive, so it was a good thing that he hadn't been asked to pay for it. All of it had been neatly laid out for him when he'd woken up the first morning.

Harry's favorite thing about his robes was their shimmer, however. The runes around the cuffs of his clothes were actually runic protection wards, woven right into the fabrics. Harry didn't know anything about runes, but could see the tightly leashed magic as it shimmered across the fabrics. The only reason he even knew that they were protection spells was because of Draco's revenge attempt. Using his influence as a child of a powerful figure, he had one of the older Slytherins try to curse him in the hallway. The spell had been some sort of itching curse, but it had splashed harmlessly across his cloak, and he didn't feel any irritation at all. He was allowed to retaliate, under the rules governing Draconus house, but chose to ignore the attack instead. Draco's face, as he witnessed the spell's failure, was revenge enough for him.

After getting dressed, Harry made his way to the Great Hall for breakfast. It was normally a short trip, since the castle always showed him the shortest ways to wherever he happened to be going, but today he wanted to take the long way, since he got up earlier than usual. He was really looking forward to his charms class that day. It felt really good to know that he could actually do the same kind of magic that his classmates were doing, even if it was done in a different way.

Breakfast was normal at his tiny table. As he understood the Great hall, each table was exactly large enough for each student to sit comfortably at his house table. Harry, being the only student in the Draconus house, had a very small table. As was usual, Harry was quite hungry this morning. Doing hard magic for the first time always both tired him out, and made him very hungry. Often times, he could offset the exhaustion by eating, but the night before, when he'd finally done the spell, it was bedtime, so he slept. Harry really enjoyed sleeping off his exhaustion. He always felt stronger in the morning. Last night's magic lesson hadn't really exhausted him, but he was a little more tired than normal. Harry figured that the use of an actual spell, rather than just pushing magic, made for more efficient use of his reserves, and didn't tire him as much. He didn't know it for a fact, so he'd have to ask the hat on his next lesson. It turned out that the hat was helping him visualize the spells for a reason. Now that Harry knew what he was looking for, the hat would help him identify patterns in the instant spells as well, like transfigurations, and some of the more offensive spells for dueling purposes.

After breakfast, Harry got ready for Herbology. He quite enjoyed the class, since he wasn't at a magical disadvantage in that class. He also loved to work in the garden at his Aunt's house, so the class was quite enjoyable for him.

Before he could leave the Great Hall, however, He was told by his keeper to report to the Headmaster's office. Apparently, there was some Ministry official that wanted to see him about something. Harry made his way to the office, and the Gargoyle once again jumped out of his way. Harry still had no idea what that was all about, but it was becoming common enough that he didn't give it much thought.

When he reached the top of the steps, he knocked on the door. He was called into the room, where he noticed not only the Ministry official, but also a small, pudgy man with a rather rat-like face. Taking a good look at this rat-like man, he could see the splotches of yellow in his aura. This was the man who was the rat.

"Good morning, Harry." Professor Dumbledore started. "About a month ago, you helped us to identify an unregistered animagus in our midst. He was taken from the school, sight unseen, and delivered into the hands of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. As you can probably guess from the name of the department, they are the equivalent of the muggle police department. Now, the story gets interesting. This man is Peter Pettigrew. Normally, Peter here would be charged with one count of failure to register, and be sentenced to some jail time and a fine from his Gringotts vault. However, Peter here is also currently deceased."

"What?" Harry said. This wasn't making any sense. "He doesn't look very dead to me."

"Precisely, Harry." The Headmaster said. "The circumstances of this man's supposed death are tied very closely to two other cases, also deemed closed. This man, since he is alive, can help us actually solve the other two cases much more satisfactorily. You are not familiar with the name Peter Pettigrew, are you, Harry?" Harry shook his head. "I see. That is to be expected, since you haven't been in contact with the Wizarding World since you were one year old. The circumstances will be made known to you in the future, I'm sure. For now, we need to gather evidence enough to re-open the cases. My friend, Mr. Dawlish, is here to witness these proceedings, and you are here to observe. What I want you to do is observe this man's magic closely, and tell me if you think he's lying."

Harry wasn't sure he really wanted to do this, but Dumbledore seemed to need his help. Mr. Dawlish was no friend, he could tell that much. "Dumbledore, I still don't get it. Why can't you just let the Aurors handle this?"

"Because, Mr. Dawlish, you've been handling it for a month already, and no progress has been made. Why is that?" Dumbledore asked.

Dawlish looked uncomfortable. "Our conventional means of interrogation doesn't work anymore."

"Interesting. And why is that?"

"There was an accident while brewing the proper potion, and he almost died." Dawlish said. "Once he was recovered, we tried again, but he showed an immunity to the potion."

"So, you couldn't interrogate him properly, correct?" Dawlish nodded. "Then let our young Magus here act as your lie detector. As I understand it," Dumbledore said, "Harry is very good at detecting deceit. I was told of your problems with his interrogation, and would like to help. I will ask the questions, Peter will answer them, and Harry will look for the lies. You can write these proceedings down, and take them to the Ministry. It will be a good experience for all of us."

"I'm not sure about this, Dumbledore. I should be handling the questioning, since I'm the Auror." Dawlish said.

Dumbledore was ready with a reply. "Yes, Mr. Dawlish, you are the Auror. That means that you are the only one here who can enter this conversation into an investigation as evidence. That means that you need to transcribe it yourself."

"I'll go along with this for now, but I will stop this if it gets out of hand." Dawlish said. Dumbledore didn't reply, and just turned his attention to Peter.

"Peter, I'm very interested to know the specifics of your survival, please tell us what you can." Harry could feel Dumbledore doing some sort of magic, but couldn't see it.

Peter squirmed, and his magic squirmed as well. "I was cornered on the street, right by twelve muggles. Sirius drew his wand, and sent a very powerful curse at me. It blew up the street, and killed all twelve of the muggles. I was caught in the explosion, and lost a finger. I suppose it was just luck that I even survived."

"Liar." Harry said. Peter looked at him incredulously. "This man, Sirius? He didn't draw a wand, and didn't curse you. You were caught in the explosion, but that's not how you lost your finger. Twelve muggles were killed, but luck had nothing to do with your survival."

Peter looked like he wanted to argue the point, but Dumbledore cut him off. "Harry doesn't know any specifics, Peter. He's merely reading your aura, and pointing out the lies you're telling."

"They're not lies!" Peter exclaimed.

"Liar." Harry said.

"Moving on." Dumbledore said. "Let's assume that, for the moment, you are being truthful. Why did you spend the next ten years hiding from the world?"

"I was afraid." Peter said. "If Sirius got word that I was still alive, he would have broken out of prison to try and finish the job."

"You're lying again." Harry said. "You were afraid, but it wasn't of this Sirius person. You were hiding from someone else."

"Assuming that you were hiding from Sirius Black, why were you so afraid?" Dumbledore asked. "Nobody has ever escaped from Azkaban before."

Peter's magic was getting frantic. "He has dark powers the rest of us can't even imagine!"

"He's panicking, and he's lying." Harry said. "He has no idea what kind of powers Sirius has, and doesn't really think that Sirius' powers, whatever they are, are dark."

"You're protecting him!" Peter yelled. "He betrayed your parents, and you're protecting him!" Harry was so stunned that he had trouble interpreting the tumultuous aura.

"He betrayed my parents?" Harry asked. He hadn't been told about that.

"Yes!" Peter said. Harry didn't have any trouble reading it this time.

"Liar!" Harry yelled. "You know that it wasn't him, which means that you know who it was!" The china set on the desk began to shake in Harry's anger. "Who was it?!"

"It was Sirius!" The man yelled.

"You're lying!" Harry screamed. "No more lies! Was it YOU?"

Peter's aura went absolutely nuts, and Harry could only think of it as a nervous breakdown. Peter's body went absolutely still, and his face paled. Harry could see him trying to fight his own aura, trying to force the lie to be true. "No…"

"Liar." Harry said. It was the only word he could say. He was completely stunned by the revelation. This was the man responsible for his parents' deaths.

Mr. Dawlish finally had what he needed. "Excellent work, Magus Potter, Professor Dumbledore. This was a very telling interrogation. We will now re-open the case of both the Potter murders, and the deaths of the twelve muggles. Magus Potter, we may need you to lend us your services again, when this man goes to trial. You'll be hearing from us."

Peter Pettigrew was restrained, and transported away in the next five minutes. Harry just sat there, totally oblivious to the world around him. He'd just found the reason he didn't have parents, and he couldn't stop thinking about it. He needed his Aunt Petunia. She'd know what to do. He didn't have any friends here, and nobody he could talk to.

"Harry?" Professor Dumbledore's voice broke him out of his thoughts. "Are you ok?"

Harry didn't want to talk to the Headmaster right now. He just wanted his Aunt Petunia. However, his Aunt was several hundred miles away, and couldn't come see him that instant. So, he swallowed his grief for the moment, and went back to business. "I'm alright, Professor. It's just a major shock to my system. I need my Aunt Petunia. Do you think she could come here?"

"I'll make the arrangements, Harry." Dumbledore replied. "Do you need anything now? I can excuse you from the rest of your classes today. This has been quite a shock."

Harry didn't want to dwell on it for the rest of the day. He'd wait until Aunt Petunia got there for that. "No Professor, I need to go to class today. I have to keep my mind occupied for a while."

"Very well, Harry." Dumbledore said. "It's just about lunch time now, so why don't you head to the Great Hall. I believe you have Charms after lunch. Professor Flitwick was most excited last night when you cast your first spell. Good luck."

Lunch was a somber affair for Harry, with the shock of finding his parents' betrayer just minutes ago. He only picked at his food a little, and didn't really eat much. About halfway through lunch, he managed to push the incident away from the front of his mind, and actually got some eating done. He would need his strength for Charms.

Both the Gryffindors and the Ravenclaws, who shared their Charms class, were very excited about learning to make objects fly. They'd been looking forward to it since Professor Flitwick made Neville's toad zoom around the room two weeks earlier. Hermione, the only Gryffindor who seemed to care about him at all, threw an apologetic look at him. She'd given him that same look every time the rest of the class had learned to cast a spell. She seemed genuinely sorry that Harry was seemingly unable to cast spells. Harry surprised her this time, however. He smiled widely back at her. He had this spell down already, and he was quite happy about that.

Professor Flitwick had the class pair off, and Harry looked for Hermione. She was the only one he really wanted to partner up with. Hermione, however, already seemed to have a partner in the form of Ron Weasley, the most ill mannered of the Gryffindor boys. He was nice enough, and Harry liked him a little, but the boy had no manners. He also hadn't really forgiven Harry for the incident on the train. Hermione seemed to like him less than Harry did, but partnered him without a word.

Harry ended up partnered with the Irish Gryffindor boy, Seamus Finnegan. He really didn't know much about the boy, but he did like the way he spoke. As cool as Seamus sounded, his accent seemed to get in the way of his magic. The incantation, Wingardium Leviosa, seemed to get stuck in his mouth, never making its way to his tongue properly. The feather never once reacted, except for the time when he prodded with his wand, frustrated with the feather's lack of response. As was usual for accidental magic, it reacted to Seamus' mood, and the feather was set on fire. Harry put it out with his hat. The hat, which had some sort of mild protection spell on it, was undamaged. Flitwick stopped by, and handed Seamus a new feather, and tried to give Harry five points for his actions. Harry politely reminded him that Draconus house did not participate in the house point competition.

Harry set about mastering his own version of the levitation charm, but found it was easier than he thought. As soon as he drew the circle, his concentration on the patterns pushed them right into the circle by themselves. The feather was easy t lift, and Harry could even make it move around a little bit by moving his finger around. Deciding that he had the spell mastered for the moment, Harry checked on how Hermione was faring. It didn't look good.

Not only was her partner's pronunciation wrong, but his movement was wrong as well. "Wingardium Leviosa!" He cried, waving his arm like a windmill.

Hermione had to duck out of the way to keep from getting poked. "Stop, stop, stop!" She implored. When she'd successfully stopped his wild arm movements, she continued. "You're going to put someone's eye out, doing that! Besides, you're saying it wrong. It's Win-gar-dium Levi-o-sa, make the 'gar' nice and long."

Ron was embarrassed to be told off by the girl. "You do it then, if you're so clever." He snarled.

Hermione wasn't put off by Ron's snarl, and certainly wasn't shy about showing off her skill. With a quick flick of her wand, and a clearly spoken "Wingardium Leviosa" the feather glowed yellow, and rose off the table, to hover about four feet from the ground.

"Oh, well done, Miss Granger, well done!" Professor Flitwick cried. "See here, everyone, Miss Granger's done it!"

Ron was rather livid that Hermione had done the spell before him, and frantically tried to make the spell work before class was over. The fact that he had not been able to, and she had helped other people, put him in a very bad mood.

"It's no wonder nobody can stand her!" Ron proclaimed loudly, after class was over. "She's a nightmare! Honestly!"

Harry, who was in easy earshot, thought that it was not only a terrible thing to say, but also not true. He actually liked Hermione, even though they weren't close. His thoughts were interrupted by a purple blur knocking him in the shoulder. The tingle of Hermione's purple aura was very sad as it washed across his skin. She's obviously heard what Ron had said.

"I think she heard you." Seamus said, looking a bit remorseful.

Ron, however, didn't look the least bit remorseful as he replied. "So? She must have realized by now that she hasn't got any friends."

Hermione didn't show up for the next class, but neither did Ron. As a small bit of revenge on Hermione's behalf, Harry asked the castle to keep Ron busy for a while. Harry wasn't sure what the castle was doing with him, but he guessed that Ron was on a very long journey to class, and he would arrive no earlier than the bell that ended the period.

Hermione wasn't seen for the rest of the afternoon, nor did she come to the feast. Harry overheard one of the Gryffindor girls, Parvati Patil say that she'd spent the afternoon in the girls' bathroom, crying. Ron seemed to be a bit more remorseful about the fact that he'd made her cry, but it didn't interfere with his appetite. Harry gathered some food into a napkin, intending to take it to her. Even if she wouldn't come to the Great Hall, that was no reason to starve. He could also offer her at least one official friend. He didn't have anyone in his house to be friends with, and he liked her the best of all the students he'd met so far. Since she was also alone, they could be 'alone' together.

Harry had just finished getting his food packet together when the Great Hall doors were pushed open. They got thrown open with such force that they banged against the walls. Harry didn't know that Professor Quirrel was that strong, but he was the one standing in the doorway. He made his way quickly to the center of the Hall, and stopped.

"Troll…In the Dungeon…Thought you should know." He said, then fainted dead away.

Complete pandemonium was the only way to describe what followed. Many of the other children screamed, the teachers looked worried, and there was a mass scramble to leave the Great Hall. Harry, however, stayed where he was, and asked the Castle what was going on. He got an image back, but didn't like what it was. A large, hulking figure carrying a club was wandering through the dungeons. A troll, Harry guessed. As with the giant creature from the third floor corridor, the castle didn't show him any details, just a silhouette.

Harry was shaken out of his thoughts by the sound of a dozen fireworks, coming from the end of Professor Dumbledore's wand. He was getting the situation well under control, and his aura was flared, just to capture his audience. Harry, who could see it, wasn't phased much, although it was powerful. The rest of the school, however, froze on the spot. It was almost like a battle of wills. Headmaster Dumbledore was overpowering the entire student body's will to run with his will for them to stay. It was very impressive.

"Silence!" He thundered, even though the Hall had gone quiet with the fireworks. He continued in a much more civil voice. "Prefects, lead your houses to their dormitories. Teachers, follow me to the dungeons."

The prefects got their houses in order quickly, and almost all the students were headed for their dormitories. Harry didn't have a prefect for his house, so was exercising the loophole in the Headmaster's instructions to find the other student that was not headed for her dormitory. Hermione wasn't at the feast, so she didn't hear the Headmaster's instructions, and Harry doubted that anyone from her own house would think about her long enough to realize that she wasn't with them.

The Castle showed Harry the quickest way to the bathroom that Hermione was in, and Harry made his way there. Riding the wind was very difficult indoors, so he ran as fast as he could. She had to be warned.

Harry was just about to open the door to the bathroom, when the Castle sent him another message. His mind's eye flew back down the third floor corridor on the right hand side, and through the door. There, he saw the same big black shape, but it was agitated this time. In front of it were two smaller silhouettes. One was indistinct and blurry, but the other one was in sharp relief. Harry thought that it looked quite familiar, but couldn't place it.

Harry couldn't think about that now. He had to prioritize at the moment. Hermione's safety came first, and then he could worry about whatever was behind the door on the third floor. He opened the door

The girls' bathroom was nothing special, he noted. It really looked just like a boys' bathroom, except for the word "GIRLS" on the door. As soon as he entered, he knew that Hermione was here. There was absolutely no mistaking her purple aura.

"Hermione?" Harry said. "Hermione, can I talk to you?"

"Go away!" was the only reply. Harry could hear the sadness in her voice. He wanted to make her feel better, but now was not the time.

"Hermione, listen to me." Harry said. "It's me, Harry. We've got to get out of here. There's a troll in the Castle…" Harry broke off as the Castle sent him a new, much more urgent message. The lumbering figure of the troll was in the same hallway that they were in, and was heading towards the door.

Hermione, at the mention of the troll, gathered herself and stepped out of the stall. She was well aware of the rules, and knew that if there was a troll in the Castle, and then she should be in her dormitory.

She had just reached Harry, and was about to both thank him, and tell him off for not being in his dormitory, when the door was blown off its hinges by the large club of the mountain troll. Hermione backed up to the wall, terrified of it, but Harry set up in a defensive crouch, ready to protect Hermione.

The troll was very large, standing about twelve feet tall. It was heavy and bulky, but looked to possess a great deal of muscle mass. It was easy to spot the strength if one looked at how easily it swung its heavy club. Its skin was grey, mottled with brown, and it seemed to be wearing some crude form of pants.

Hermione was shaking in the background, and the troll seemed to ignore Harry completely. Instead, he made straight for Hermione. Harry conjured his strongest ball of magic, and hurled it right at the troll's head. He could tell right away that it wouldn't hurt the troll at all, but it might distract it long enough for Hermione to escape. The ball of magic smacked the troll right in the head, rather like a glowing snowball, and the troll turned its attention to Harry. It took it several seconds to turn its body, and Hermione managed to shake herself into action. She got behind the troll, and yelled. The troll was confused now, and made to turn, swinging its club wildly. Harry was hoping one of the teachers would make it in time to help them, but it looked like he couldn't allow this to go on any longer.

First, he needed to make sure that Hermione would help him. "Hermione!" He yelled. "Promise you won't tell anyone!" The troll reacted to the noise, and swung his club at Harry. He ducked, and it passed over his head.

"Won't tell anyone what?" She yelled back. The troll made to turn to her, swinging his club into the row of stalls, which exploded into splinters.

"Just promise!" Harry yelled. He'd only ever done this trick once, and wasn't proud of the ability. He didn't want anyone else to know about it.

"I promise!" Hermione yelled.

The troll seemed to finally make up his mind, and made to attack Hermione. Harry, however, had his magic ready to pull off his most dangerous trick. Balling his right hand into a fist, the thin, intricate scar on the knife-hand side arranged itself into a very intricate pattern of tiny symbols. (A/N: For those of you who don't know, the knife-hand side runs from the side of the pinky finger to the wrist) Concentrating on stopping the troll right where it was, he slammed his fist into his left palm. A white glow appeared above the troll, and slammed to the floor with the force of a locomotive accident. The troll crumpled under the force, laid out cold, and possibly dead. Harry didn't care to check.

Harry walked over to Hermione, who seemed to be in shock. As soon as she focused on him, she launched herself at him, sobbing. Harry, who had absolutely no experience with crying girls, held her awkwardly as she sobbed against him. While she cried, Harry contemplated the circumstances that had given him that particular weapon.

Harry was walking along the sidewalk in Little Whinging, when a man on a bike came barreling past him, knocking him into the street. Before he could get angry with the rider, he found himself looking into the grill of a fast-moving car. Acting without thinking, Harry slammed his fist into the pavement. He felt a massive surge of directed magic, and a painful stinging in his hand. The car stopped suddenly as the front end crumpled into the pavement, as if someone had hit it with a very large hammer. Before the driver could react, Harry got up off the street, and ran into the woods, where he stayed until he'd navigated his way to his Aunt's house.

The story had made the paper, and Harry called his trick the Hammer-Fist. He didn't ever use it, though. He was afraid of it, to be honest. The technique had the ability to be extremely destructive, and Harry didn't like destroying things. If anyone knew of this technique, they could try to make him use it for things that weren't necessarily good, and Harry didn't want that. He didn't think that there were many who would do that, but there would always be people who were manipulative enough to try. In muggle school, a few of his acquaintances had started out trying to be his friend, simply so he would do their homework. When they didn't need his help, they ignored him. Harry assumed that some people in the Wizarding World would be the same, so he wanted his special ability to remain hidden. Hermione knew now, but Harry was pretty sure that she wouldn't tell.

No sooner had Harry thought of this, then Hermione's big test showed up in the bathroom. Professors Snape, Flitwick, and most importantly McGonagall appeared in the broken doorway, and surveyed the damage with horror. Harry supposed that it did look quite horrific. There was dust everywhere, and the row of toilets was destroyed, along with most of the sinks. One of the walls was cracked, but most important was the unconscious troll in the middle of the room. Harry had examined it with his eyes, and discovered that it was still alive. Its aura was faint and slightly discolored, but it was alive.

"What…Why…How…" Professor McGonagall seemed unable to form a sentence. Professors Flitwick and Snape were shocked as well. After all, it wasn't an everyday occurrence for two first-year students to defeat a mountain troll. Finally, after a few moments of gaping, McGonagall gathered herself. "Explain yourselves, both of you!"

Harry flinched at her tone, but could see the worry in her aura. "Professor McGonagall, when the students were told to go to their dormitories, Hermione wasn't there. She's been in here since right after Charms class." McGonagall looked surprised. "A few of her housemates were insulting her behind her back, and she was upset. When everyone left the Great Hall, I got concerned that they didn't care enough about her to make sure that she was safe. Hermione is my friend, so I had to make sure that she was ok." When Harry called her a friend, Hermione smiled, and her eyes filled up with happy tears. She had a friend. "We were about to leave the bathroom when the troll showed up."

"I see, Potter." McGonagall said. "About the troll…how did you two manage it?"

Harry was uncomfortable. If he lied, he's be punished, but he didn't want anyone to know about his Hammer-Fist technique. Hermione seemed to sense his discomfort, and came to his rescue. It was amazing to Harry that she could pick up on him this quickly. "We have Professor Flitwick to thank for that! Harry kept yelling at it, and ducking out of the way of its club, until it raised it over its head. I remembered the levitation spell that we learned today, and cast it. The club was pulled right out of its hand, but it was way too heavy for me to lift. It fell, and landed right on the troll's head. It was a good thing we learned that spell today! It saved our lives!"

Harry was quite astonished by Hermione. Not only had she told a complete lie, she'd spun the tale so well that it sounded like a perfectly accurate truth. Professor Flitwick believed it, and even Snape looked like he might believe it. Professor McGonagall awarded Hermione twenty points for her bravery, and then took away fifteen points for her foolishness. She awarded Harry a Silver Star. Harry was quite pleased with that. Silver Stars were one of three awards a Magus could earn at Hogwarts. Silver Stars were awarded for selfless service to another person. He would proudly wear it on his shoulder. After getting the award, Harry decided something. Hermione needed a better environment than the one she was in, and Harry would make sure she got it.

"Professor, Hermione needs a backing."

Professor McGonagall was shocked again. She hadn't expected Harry to bestow that Honor on anyone in his first year. "Are you sure, Harry? That is serious business, and there will be a few consequences for her as well."

"Let's let her decide then." Hermione looked confused. "Hermione Granger, I, Magus Harry Potter, formally invite you to become an honorary member of Draconus house."

"Before you accept, Miss Granger, there are a few things that you should know. For one, your dress code will change a bit. You will wear the Gryffindor equivalent of Harry's robes. You will also be removed from the House Point competition. Your answers in class will no longer be worth house points. On the upside, you will no longer need to worry about losing points either." Professor McGonagall seemed to know everything she needed to know about the process Harry was initiating. "Harry becomes your sponsor as a Draconus student. That means that a few of his rules apply to you as well. If you are challenged to a duel by another student in your year or lower, you cannot refuse." Hermione looked like she was about to argue. "However, you will not be required to duel." Hermione was relieved, but only for a moment. "Harry will duel on your behalf."

"That's not fair, Professor!" Hermione cried. "Harry has to duel for me if someone challenges me?"

"No, it's not fair, Miss Granger. It is, however, the way these things work in this process." Professor McGonagall said. "Harry has initiated this process, and wishes you to join his house. Do you accept?"

Hermione thought for a moment, and then decided that she only had one friend, and he was a Draconus. She's become a Draconus to be closer to her friend. "I accept, Professor."

From the pocket of her robe, McGonagall produced a small piece of purple wire, and touched it to Hermione's Gryffindor badge. The wire snaked its way around her badge, making the badge completely outlined in the rich purple that was Draconus' distinctive color. "Very well, Miss Granger. You are now an honorary member of Draconus house. You are still required to sleep in the Gryffindor dormitory, although we will make an exception for tonight. Harry, we'll speak about this tomorrow. For now, you two head to the Draconus dormitory, where you should find some food waiting for you. The other students are finishing their meals in the dormitories as well. We'll take care of this troll, and then I'm going to speak to my house about their treatment of Hermione. Goodnight, you two."

The two students made their way, twisting and turning through the halls, to the Draconus dormitory, where Hermione's backing illuminated the Magus glyph for her. Harry showed her how to open it, and they settled in for the night.


	7. Chapter 07: The Chase

A/N: I'm back! It's been a long six months, folks, but I've finally got my computer back! For those of you who weren't aware of my location for the last six months, let me fill you in. On April 27, 2004, I shipped out of Cleveland, OH, bound for The U.S. Army field artillery training center (USFATC) at Ft. Sill, OK. That's right, my friends. I joined the military, and went off to basic training. After a grueling 10 weeks of training, I was sent to Ft. Bliss, TX. That is where I am right now, by the way. I am currently attending AIT (Advanced Individual Training) to become a 14J. That's a radar operator, for those of you who aren't familiar with Army speak. I finally got my computer back, so I had to write this chapter out. I haven't written anything worthwhile in about six months, so please bear with me if it's not to your expectations. Let me know what you think, as usual. The chapters might start coming fast and furious, since the ideas have been spinning around in my head for such a long time. SIDE NOTE FOR FANS OF FOURTH POWER: It's been a long time since I last thought about it, but when I got my computer back, the ideas started flowing again. Look for another chapter coming soon!

Chapter 07: The Chase

The next morning brought a sensation to the Great Hall. The Gryffindor house was in total shock when they arrived at breakfast. The previous night, they had been given a very stern talking-to by their head of house, and were worried about one of their own. Professor McGonagall hadn't told them anything about the troll, but had told them that something had happened to Hermione as a result of them leaving her all alone in the castle while they went to the safety of their dormitory. Most of the Gryffindors assumed that she had been injured or killed by the troll, and they wouldn't see her. Most of the older students thought that she had been sent home with some sort of disability, since McGonagall had mentioned that Hermione's contribution to the house point game would stop, and she didn't know how the house would deal with the loss.

The sensation began simply enough. When the doors of the Greta Hall opened, the students gasped as one. The hall was decorated elaborately with the rich Magus-Purple, with an equal amount of Gryffindor-Red, ignoring the colors of the other houses. The Gryffindors were originally quite pleased to see their house color splashed around the Great Hall, but were less pleased when they noticed that the red banners also bore the Draconus crest, rather than the Gryffindor crest. They grins turned to looks of outrage when the banners took on a border of the Draconus house purple color as well.

Professor Dumbledore was seated at his normal place, and beckoned the children to their seats. "All will be explained in due time, children. Please be patient." Some of the older students looked like they wanted to argue, but Dumbledore silenced them with a look. He had a way of doing that. If Harry had been there, he would have seen the aura flare. The students couldn't see it, but their magic reacted, and made them uneasy. "I assure you, today is a very special day."

The students sat, waiting for the breakfast to be served. It was at about that time, when one of the older, more observant students pointed out the next sensational item on the list of sensations of the day. Draconus house was absent of the breakfast, which wasn't normal, but not too noteworthy. After all, breakfast wasn't a requirement. What was odd, however, was that the table was filled with food, even though nobody was sitting there. Not only that, but the table was twice as large as it normally was. That caused the biggest round of gasps yet. It was a well known fact that the tables of Hogwarts were enchanted to always be just large enough to fit the exact number of students in the table's assigned house. The fact that the table was twice as large as it had been meant that Draconus had acquired a new student.

Once again, Dumbledore knew what the houses were thinking, and spoke before the uproar could happen. "I see that many of you have noticed the odd size of the Draconus house table. As I said earlier, this is a very special day. Last night, while the rest of you were tucked safely in your dormitories, our young Magus helped us search the castle for the troll. Due to his strange ability to sense things, Harry Potter found the troll long before we did. Harry tried to reach help, but found himself trapped by the troll. He tried to fight it, and did as well as he could until help arrived." The entire hall was silent, anticipating the rest of the story. Dumbledore was an accomplished storyteller, and had his audience held completely captive. Now was the time to spin the lie. Hermione had told it the night before, but Dumbledore knew that it had not been true. He was a scanner, after all, and Hermione was not capable of that kind of magical output yet. He had no doubt that she would be, but she had not developed enough yet. "Oddly enough, help came from a very unlikely source. Hermione Granger was on her way to her dormitory, albeit a little later than everyone else, when she heard the sounds of the fighting. She ran to investigate, and found Harry trying vainly to defend himself from the troll's giant club. On pure instinct, she cast a simple levitation charm on the troll's club, and it jumped out of the troll's hand. Hermione may be a good witch, but that club must have weighed 300 pounds. She couldn't hold it, not even for a second. The club dropped, its full weight crashing down onto the troll's head. A troll may be a very strong creature, but there are very few things that can survive a blow of 300 pounds to the head. The troll was not killed, but it was knocked senseless. Hermione Granger saved Harry Potter's life last night, and Harry has chosen to repay her with an honorary membership in the Draconus house." Once again, the hall gasped as one. "It gives me great pleasure to introduce the newest member of Draconus house. Miss Hermione Granger!"

The doors to the Great Hall opened silently, which was odd for the normally creaky doors, and there stood a warrior clad in Gryffindor colors. Looking again, most students realized that it wasn't really a warrior, but Hermione, clad in Gryffindor combat robes. Her attire matched Harry's exactly, with the exception of the colors. The crest was the same as Harry's, but done in the Gryffindor colors, rather than the silver and purple that marked Draconus house. The sight of Hermione kept the shocked students quiet for a few moments, but the hall's deliberate change of scenery helped keep them quiet for a while longer. As Hermione took her first step into the hall, Harry stepped from behind her. At the same time, the banners took on a life of their own. Every one of the purple banners slid across the ceiling until they lined the walls. The red banners with the purple trim slid to the middle, creating a walkway straight to the middle of the hall, where the Draconus table was located. As the pair walked slowly towards their table, the hall lights, which looked like the morning sky, dimmed to almost twilight on the sides of the halls, and brightened to near noonday in the middle. The hall's light show proved successful to keep the audience silent until the pair of students reached their seats. As the lights changed back to normal, the hall pulled its last trick. As Hermione and Harry sat down, the food appeared on everyone else's table. The surprise and shock value of what the students had witnessed kept them quiet through most of breakfast, keeping their comments short, and whispered to each other.

Dumbledore himself was shocked at the display as well. It had been his idea to change the banners in the hall, but he hadn't had any hand in any of the rest of it. He knew Hermione would be wearing the combat robes, but he hadn't had a chance to have them made for her yet. The hall had changed on its own, and the food had not appeared in the manner he had ordered. Somehow, the Draconus house was tied to the castle more closely than even he was as the headmaster. It was not necessarily a good thing. As headmaster, he was very aware of the movements of the castle, and the idea that the castle could help hide two students from him was disturbing.

Breakfast was over quicker than most of the students thought it would be, and the students dispersed for their classes. Harry and Hermione once again stayed behind, at the request of Professor McGonagall. She led them to her office, and shut the door.

"I know that you lied to me, Miss Granger. I don't know what was done to that troll, but the Headmaster tells me that there's no way that you could have controlled as much magic as was used last night in that bathroom. That means that you, Mr. Potter, were responsible." Her head swiveled from Hermione to Harry. "Harry, I know that whatever you did last night was powerful and tightly leashed. I also know that you don't want others to know what it was. However, I need to know if what you did could be dangerous to you or Hermione." Professor McGonagall looked like she really didn't want to know the answer to her next question. "What really happened last night, Harry?"

Harry told her everything, including where he's come by the technique. "I really didn't want to use it, Professor, but the troll was out of control. I couldn't concentrate enough to form any kind of spell. I just reacted with the one thing I knew how to use to stop a large, moving object."

As Harry told his story, McGonagall remembered investigating a massive surge of magical energy being recorded in Little Whinging a few years earlier. The reason that it stood out was the fact that Harry Potter lived there, and it was widely thought that the surge could have been an attempt to break the protections that surrounded him. Dumbledore had told her, in private, that that much force could have broken the wards, if it had been properly structured and aimed. When she'd arrived at the scene of the surge, Harry was nowhere to be found, and the only evidence of magic being used there was the completely caved in front of a car.

"Harry," Professor McGonagall started, "how powerful are you? Do you have any idea? That spell, which you do quite naturally, would take an accomplished wizard several incantations and wand movements to perform, and perhaps more than a minute of intense concentration to gather the necessary magical force to even attempt to hit anything that hard." Her wand was out in an instant, and she quickly conjured a pyramid of wood. "Please demonstrate your ability for me, Harry. I'll ask you for this one demonstration, and then I shall do my best to forget that you even possess this power."

Harry got to his feet, and leveled his eyes at the wood. McGonagall felt the very air crackle with an unseen energy. _He's not using his own magic. _McGonagall could feel the air pulse with Harry's focus. _He's pulling magic from the world around him. God, I hope he doesn't hurt himself. _The next instant, Harry's hand curled into a fist, and he slammed it on the desktop. For Minerva McGonagall, the world slowed down to a crawl. The air above the woodpile began to fog over in a glowing mist. As the mist formed, it coalesced into a pattern very similar to the one that was found on the end of Harry's hand. Once the pattern had formed, energy flowed into it from everywhere, and it glowed so brightly that her eyes stung. Not a moment later, that power arranged itself into a force fit for crushing anything, and slammed down towards the wood. The wood did not crack. It didn't splinter, or even break. It was hit with such tremendous force, that it ground itself into sawdust in an instant. There was nothing left of the woodpile to examine. It was just gone.

Harry looked non-plussed. "I'm sorry Professor McG. I didn't mean to make it that hard. I was trying to just break the wood. I didn't mean to powder it." Professor McGonagall tried not to smile at the familiar abbreviation of her name. Harry's mother had called her that when she was in her seventh year, and it felt good to hear it again. "I'm not sure what happened."

"Well, I don't know either, Harry." McGonagall had an idea, but it would be dangerous to tell her charge what she thought. If the explanation was that simple, there was no telling how powerful that spell could have been.

Just as McGonagall finished cleaning up the mess left by the sawdust, Professor Dumbledore burst in to the room. His wand was up and ready, and Harry reacted without thinking. Before he had even seen who it was, there was a ball of that same white glow in his hand, and it was sent at Dumbledore. The aged Headmaster was a VERY accomplished dueler, and tried to deflect the spell. The charm that he used should have changed the course of any spell that came its way, but Harry's little ball of magic passed through it like the shield wasn't even there. Dumbledore jumped to the side, and the ball splashed against the wall. Harry was now fully aware of who was in the room, and made no further attempt to attack.

Professor Dumbledore put his wand away quickly, and surveyed the situation. In the room were two first year students, and a Professor with a smug expression on her face. He had the distinct impression that she was trying not to laugh at him in front of her students. Thinking about it, he wanted to laugh at himself too. He, the man who had defeated the Great Octavious Grindelwald, almost rendered senseless by a first year student. Minerva would be picking on him for a long time. Well that would happen later. Now, it was time for answers.

"What happened here, Minerva?" He asked, his eyes searching hers for an answer. "There was a spectacular surge of magic in this room, but there's no trace of it to be found now."

Minerva was an accomplished liar as well; Harry was about to find out. "I have no inkling of what you mean, Albus. I was speaking to my young magus and his friend about Hermione's change of status, and you burst in like a fool." Harry schooled his features into a straight face. He never liked to lie, but it was a little disappointing to know that he was the only one in the school that was forced to tell the truth.

Albus' eyes slid past Harry, and Harry forced himself to meet the gaze of the headmaster. _You won't know my secrets, Headmaster. _Professor Dumbledore jerked his eyes away from Harry, and moved on to Hermione. Her determined look met him, and he straightened. "Perhaps I was mistaken, then. I'm sure there is more to this story than you are letting on, Minerva, but I shall let the sleeping dog lie for now." The Headmaster bid them a good day, and strolled out of the room as if nothing had happened.

"Perhaps that wasn't such a good idea after all." Professor McGonagall said to herself. She then turned to Harry. "Are there any other major talents that you have that might bring the attention of the Headmaster like that?"

"I didn't know that he would feel that one, so I'm not sure." Harry said. "I think that's the strongest piece of magic I can do, so I don't think so."

"Good." The Professor said. "Harry, that spell had more magical output than most wizards can manage, and that's a fact. I don't know where the energy came from, but it didn't come from you. I want you to promise me that you won't do that again if you can possibly avoid it." She wisely didn't back him into the corner that he wouldn't EVER use it. As soon as he promised he wouldn't ever use it, a situation would arise that he would need it, and then he would become an oath breaker. There was no punishment for breaking promises, but it would be a stain on his honor, and Harry took his honor very seriously.

"I didn't want to do it the last two times." Harry said. "I give you my word that if I can avoid using the Hammer-Fist, I will."

"Good." The Professor said. "Now, I have a surprise for you. I know that you're disappointed that you can't play Quidditch like the rest of the school, so I pulled a few strings, and set up a chase game for you." Harry's eyes lit up with pleasure. "I thought you might enjoy it. Let's go, Harry. The chase is about to start."

"Wait, you mean right now?" Harry asked. The hammer fist was a hard bit of magic, and it took a lot out of him. Chasing something might put him over the edge, and he might pass out.

"Where did you think the rest of the school went on a Saturday, Potter?" The Professor asked him. "They're all set to begin the chase."

"Alright then, let's go." The light of battle was in Harry's eyes now. He would beat all of them, and win the chase.

Professor McGonagall led him down to the Quidditch pitch, where all four of the house teams waited. Harry was led to the center, where McGonagall explained the rules. "This is a very simple game, teams. There are no balls, no goals, and only one object. Your job is to catch Magus Potter, and it doesn't matter how you do it. You six," she pointed at the chasers, beaters, and the keeper, "your job is to make it as easy as possible for _your _seeker to catch Magus Potter. That means disabling the other teams' seekers as well. Wands out!" Twenty-four wands flashed from under robes. "Seekers, it is your task to catch Magus Potter. Give your wands to me." Four wands were pulled sullenly from pockets and given up. "Ready, Harry?"

Harry gulped. He had not expected to be the object of the chase. He glanced at Hermione. She had the warriors light in her eyes, and her purple aura shimmered with anticipation. She was going to help him, he was sure of it. Harry smiled in a very disconcerting way. It was time to battle. "Ready, Professor." He closed his eyes, and dropped into his battle stance. With a quick burst of thought, his wings once again erupted from his back, and he was in the air.

The Gryffindor team was hot on his heels, but they weren't tossing spells yet. Harry rolled in mid air, and changed his direction. He headed for the goal posts at the end of the field. Below him, The Slytherin team was now in the air, and already sending spells his way. Pulses of red and blue light whizzed by him, but he ignored them, merely trying to get to the goalpost as fast as possible. The Gryffindor team was falling back, and Harry slowed down. It wouldn't work if they had time to think about it. The team began sending spells at him, and he dodged the pulses of blue light. The seeker, with his quick broom, was pulling ahead of the pack, and was almost on his heels. Perfect. Harry reached the goal, and quickly changed directions as he went through the hoop. The bell that indicated a goal had not been turned off, and it sounded loudly. The sound distracted the Gryffindor seeker, and he turned his head in mid-turn. That was a bad idea. The front of his broom connected with the goal post, and he went into a flat spin, and ended up hanging from the broom by his arms only. Harry didn't give him much of a thought. He was worried about the chasers. Bright blue bolts from their wands were getting closer to him, and he had to duck and roll to avoid them. He felt one of the red spells splash against his robes, but the protections held. The spell had come from a Ravenclaw chaser, a well-aimed shot to take him while he was concentrating on something else. He swerved out of the way of another spell, and used his momentum to knock another Slytherin beater off course. The beater got control quickly, but caught a spell in the face, and fell off his broom. He didn't fall far before a levitation spell grabbed him, cast by the diminutive Professor Flitwick, and set him gently on the pitch. That was one down. Harry glanced over, and smiled widely. Hermione had the most evil smile on her face. She winked at him, and sent a quick red spell at an unsuspecting Hufflepuff. Another one down, and only twenty-six more in the air.

The play was getting dirty by the time everyone was up in the air. The seekers were doing as much dodging as Harry was, and the chasers were sending as many spells at each other as they were sending in Harry's direction. Harry couldn't get the smile off his face. It was battle, and he was ready for it. He wasn't only on the defensive. Everyone had seen him toss that ball of magic in the duel with Draco Malfoy, and he formed two such balls for use in his next aerial maneuver. He willed himself up, until he felt that he was well out of range of the battle below. He'd never done anything like this before, but if it worked it would be one to remember for the future. He turned, and headed for the ground. Fast. He dropped the connection to his wings, and fell like a stone. The crowd screamed as one, and all four teams stopped to find out what the problem was. Perfect. He flailed his hands, and the two balls of magic flew straight into the chests of two Ravenclaw chasers. Harry curled himself into a ball, and flared his wings again. As he finished his spin, he had two more balls ready. Snapping out of the somersault posture, he let the two balls fly again. He hit a Slytherin beater, but missed the Gryffindor seeker.

Harry's acrobatics and quick eliminations seemed to remind the remaining players that he was the target. In a temporary moment of truce, the fourteen remaining players took off after him. Hermione caught two in the back of the formation, dropping the number to twelve. The other players didn't realize that Hermione was playing the game yet, and she remained safe, sniping the players from the ground. Harry looked over at Professor McGonagall. She was enjoying herself, he could tell. The smile she wore was evident, and she kept yelling something, though he couldn't make out what it was. He couldn't help but smile in thanks that she'd arranged this for him. It was so much fun.

A flash of poisonous red caught Harry's eye. It was building from the teachers seating area, and Harry was sure it was evil. It was a ghastly color, and reminded him of something, although he couldn't remember what. Before he could think it through too much more, a giant ball of the poisonous light was sent barreling straight at Hermione. The light wasn't fast, but Hermione couldn't see it either. Without pausing to think, Harry went into the fastest dive he'd ever attempted. Not only did he let himself fall, he added as much forward thrust as possible.

He made it, but barely. He pushed Hermione as he touched down, and she went sprawling to the pitch. She fixed him with a look that was both hurt and furious, and we began to apologize. He never got to say a word. The pain hit hard and fast, and he curled up into a tight ball. He couldn't scream, it hurt so badly. The wings, which he had not released curled around him in a protective embrace, but it didn't help. His back started to hurt really bad right where the wings had originated. Harry's body started to shake with the pain, and he began to scream. It was like his insides were being twisted around and rearranged repeatedly.

Hermione didn't know what to do, but she could perceive that someone in the stands was making her friend feel pain, and she knew that the spell had been meant for her. She scanned the stands for a clue. There it was. Professor Snape had his eyes locked on Harry's form, and was chanting something. She screamed that she would find Harry some help, and ran for the stands.

Harry was screaming, but he could still think. Someone had tried to hurt his friend, and they weren't going to get away with it. Forcing his eyes to open through his pain, he followed the pathway of the spell back to the origin. Professor Snape was standing right there, and a smoky aura surrounded him. He was doing something magical, and Harry was sure it had something to do with the pain that he was in right now. The anger that coursed through his veins was unlike anything he'd ever felt. It was like someone had poured boiling water into his veins, and then stuck him in the oven for an hour. He was beyond angry. He screamed again, this time more rage than pain, and got to his feet.

Hermione had made her way to the base of the tower, still trying to figure out what to do. She scrambled up the stairs, knowing that she needed to get to the top in order to help Harry, even if she didn't know how she was going to do it.

Harry needed to be in the air again. He sent a concentrated burst of angry thought to his wings, and took to the sky. He was so angry that he didn't hear the gasps from the crowd. His attention was on Snape, and Snape alone. He couldn't really feel the pain anymore, but he was still going to pay for what he tried to do to Hermione. Blue blasts came from the players in the air, and Harry dodged them without effort. He sent balls of pure magic right back, and eliminated them without a thought. Many times, he didn't even look at them, just tossed a ball into their magical presence. He had his priority target.

Snape was staring in horror, but his attention was taken away from Harry by his robes catching on fire. He danced about, trying to put the fire out, and then ran down to the ground. He needed to escape those eyes. The look in Harry's eyes had reached into the depths of his soul, and carved a place for itself in his nightmares.

When Snape's robes caught fire, Harry was confused. Did he do that? He saw a flash of purple aura, and his anger dropped to nothing. He laughed out loud. Hermione had come to his rescue, even as he was trying to get revenge on her behalf. Good for her, he thought. He thought about the game that he'd been playing, and turned back to the pitch. It was empty. Looking down, he saw that each and every one of the players was down, and the ones who were awake were staring at him in wonder. A gust of wind drew his attention, and he gaped also. His wings were different. Instead of the glowing, pure white wings like a giant bird, a set of giant purple wings, like a dragon, with black skin stretched between the purple fingers, flapped slowly behind him. They were almost twice the size of the wings he had before. He descended to the ground, and let go of the connection to his wings. This time, unlike before, he didn't feel them dissipate. Instead, they folded themselves neatly, and wrapped around him, becoming his cloak. Harry thought it was a bit strange, but it did make for a cool effect.

Professor McGonagall strode up to him, and examined his eyes. "What happened, Harry? I saw you swoop down to Hermione, and then you fell on the ground. You screamed, then got to your feet. Your white wings exploded into tiny shards of magic, and those gigantic purple wings unfolded. Your eyes changed too. I could see them glowing from where I sat. Are you ok?"

Harry ignored her question's intent, and told her about his wings. "I'm not sure what happened, Professor. I wanted to go faster, so I could escape. Hermione was helping me from the ground, and someone sent a spell her way. It looked like it might be dangerous, but Hermione couldn't see it. She's not trained to defend herself yet, and until she is instructed, it is my job to protect her from that sort of thing. It's all part of me being her sponsor into my house." Harry paused to gauge his Professor's reaction. She was believing him, which was good. He needed her to believe this next one without question, because it was almost a lie, and if she caught him on it, he might have to lie outright, which would hurt. "The spell hit me, instead of Hermione. I guess it reacted badly with my magic, because it hurt a lot. I couldn't even keep my footing, it hurt so badly. I got angry at the pain, and tried to take off again. The pain stopped when I got airborne, and I started playing again. I wasn't sure who cast the spell," Harry braced himself for the pain that he knew was coming, but it never came. He quickly realized that he actually wasn't SURE that Snape had cast the spell. "So I tried to eliminate the rest of the players as fast as possible. I guess that it worked, Professor. Did I win?" Harry started to feel a little odd.

"Yes, Harry. Your team eliminated every single one of the opposing forces, and you didn't get caught." Professor McGonagall said with a major note of pride in her voice.

"Good." Harry said. There was almost no emotion in his voice. Hermione grabbed his hand, to ask if he was alright, but never got to ask. Harry's eyes rolled up into his head, and he passed out.

Professor Snape was hiding, and he wasn't ashamed to say so. What he'd just witnessed on the pitch had shaken him to the core. When Harry Potter had arrived at the school, Snape had taken an immediate dislike of the boy. He looked just like his father, with exception of his eyes. Those eyes came straight from his mother, and retained their ability to pierce his soul. Lily had been his beloved enemy in school. She was always just a little better than he was in her studies, and he hated her for it. However, he also couldn't have pushed himself as hard without her there as motivation, so he liked her. Her eyes always seemed to read him like a book, though, and he hated that. Harry's eyes did the same thing, but Snape hated Harry's eyes even more than he'd hated Lily's. Harry's eyes were his silent accusers, screaming his crimes into the depths of his mind.

Snape shuddered with the thought of what he'd just witnessed. When Harry had fallen over on the pitch, Snape had recognized the telltale signs of a pain-cage hex. He knew the counter-spell, and jumped to his feet to cast it. He began to chant the spell, but Harry started to climb to his feet. He was pushing the pain back with the force of his will, it seemed. Then he turned his eyes to Snape, and Snape realized the truth. It wasn't willpower that was forcing back the pain, but anger. Anger, which was directed at him. Harry, with that amazing scanning ability of his, had detected him casting a spell. His eyes were glowing with intensity, and promised more suffering than he could imagine. He would not sleep tonight.

"Master, I didn't know!" The squeaky voice of Professor Quirrel said. "The boy has never used his scanning ability actively in my presence before. I didn't know that he would be able to sense that I was casting the spell, or that he would sacrifice his safety to help the mudblood girl."

"Silence, fool!" A voice hissed from nowhere. "Your zeal to hurt the mudblood was admirable, but you've placed us in a very tight spot. The boy may have sensed where the spell originated, and may now bring your transgression to the attention of the Headmaster. We will have to tread carefully for a time."

"I understand, Master." Was Quirrel's only reply.

Harry's excellent performance was the talk of the school for the next few days. People he didn't even know kept coming up to him and congratulating him on winning the chase. Hermione was getting plenty off attention as well. Although the players hadn't seen her helping Harry from the ground, most of the audience had seen her firing spells from the ground. She got a few approving looks from the Gryffindors and Slytherins, because of her sneakiness and her care not to eliminate any Gryffindors, but the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws constantly shot her scornful looks. The Hufflepuffs were convinced that she was cheating, and hated unfairness. The Ravenclaws had been outsmarted, and they hated that. One of the older Ravenclaws decided to do something about it about three weeks later.

"Hermione Granger, I, Nathaniel Foxmoore, challenge you to a duel!" Said the boy. Hermione gulped. She didn't think she knew near enough to fight with a fourth-year student.

Harry answered for her. "I, Harry Potter, am designated as the protector of Hermione Granger." It was a formal statement of answer. Harry had been required to memorize them, in case this scenario ever came up. "If you have business with her, you may settle it with me."

The ball was now in the boy's court. He paled when he found out that he would need to duel the magus, but his pride would not let him back down. "Very well, Magus Potter. Your protected has dishonored the Ravenclaw house, and I will see its honor restored. I challenge you to a duel."

"Accepted." Harry replied. The light of battle made its way back into Harry's eyes. It was time to battle again, and he'd been practicing. He stared his opponent down for the rest of dinner. The young Ravenclaw boy kept glancing at Harry, and growing more nervous.

The dueling platform was set up after dinner, and Harry made his preparations. He was glad that it was a straight magical duel, because he wanted to try something that he'd been practicing for the last three weeks with the hat.

Foxmoore took his place at the end of the platform, and readied his wand. Harry drew two small circles in the air. In each circle, he drew a series of small symbols. He had been working on this trick for three weeks, and wanted to test it out. If he concentrated, he found that he could hold two spells at the same time. He could even cast them at the same time if he tried hard enough. As he finished writing the symbols, one of the circles turned bright blue, and the other a vivid green.

The bell rang to begin the duel, and Harry dropped into the familiar battle stance. The glowing symbols started to rotate around Harry's body, ready to be used at a moment's notice. The boy at the other end was gaping at the rotating circles, but shook himself out of it, just in time to dodge a blast of blue light from Harry's fingertip as he passed it through the blue circle. He sent a bolt of red energy at Harry, crying "Expelliarmus!" Harry wasn't sure what that was supposed to do, but brought the green symbol to the front, and touched it as the spell reached him. There was the sound of a gunshot in the Great Hall, and the red spell launched itself as if it had been fired from a cannon. It hit the ceiling of the hall, and exploded in a shower of red fireworks.

The boy was staring at the fireworks, and Harry took advantage of his distraction. Summoning the blue symbol, he fired off the spell at the boy, who was just remembering that Harry was still a threat. He dropped his eyes back to Harry, just in time to yell in surprise as the beam of blue light struck him square in the chest. His eyes widened in surprise, then slammed shut. He fell to the ground, and the fight was over.

Professor Flitwick, who had been the official, examined the unconscious boy. "He's asleep!" He squeaked. Harry smiled. That had been the fun part, developing that spell. He'd used the patterns that he's seen in Snape's class, and the hat had helped him develop a less powerful version of the potion in a spell. Professor Flitwick was amazed. "I've been dueling for longer than most of the Professors here have been alive, and this is the first time that anyone has used a sleeping spell to win a duel! Well done, Magus Potter!"

It was time to be formal again, and Harry answered the Professor with a statement to the entire Ravenclaw house. "The battle is done, and my opponent fought honorably. Let the business that laid between our houses be settled, and the incident forgotten."

Professor Flitwick responded as formally as Harry. "The business between our houses is done, Magus. This battle has brought peace for the moment. It is my hope that this peace may live forever."

Harry made his way to his dormitory, asking the castle to make sure he wasn't followed. Professor Dumbledore had informed him that his Aunt would be coming in a few days to talk to him about his parents. She would stay until the Christmas holiday started, then would go back home, leaving Harry to enjoy the freedom the castle allowed him. He'd considered going home for the holidays, but his magic would need to be contained while he was home, and he was not sure he could put a lid on it for long enough.


	8. Chapter 08: Interludes

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Chapter 8: Interludes in the Hospital Wing

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It was three days later when Harry's aunt Petunia finally got there. Harry had been looking forward to the day, and woke up extraordinarily early. Much like a small boy on Christmas, he got ready in a huge hurry, and made his way to the common room. As was usual, Hermione, who had gauged his mood the night before, was awake and reading on the couch. Hermione still slept in the Gryffindor house Dormitories, but spent very little time in the Gryffindor tower otherwise. Everyone had been a lot nicer to her since the night of Halloween, but she still didn't feel comfortable there. Harry didn't mind the company, anyway.

Harry and Hermione made their way down to breakfast, where the normal shift in attention happened. Harry hated that, whenever he or Hermione walked into a room, the attention of the room would shift to them for a while. It was like everyone was just waiting for him to amaze them with something. It never really occurred to him that this was because he'd already amazed them more this year than anyone had ever amazed them before. Even the purebloods, who had grown up around magic, didn't know what the magus was capable of.

Breakfast was thoroughly un-exciting, much to the disappointment of the rest of the school, and Harry and Hermione made their way to Transfiguration. Hermione was excited about the lesson today. It was the last thing that Professor McGonagall planned to cover before the students went home, and it was supposed to be fairly easy with practice.

It wasn't much of a lesson for Harry, which was usual. His mind wasn't really on the subject, but more on his Aunt Petunia's arrival later that day. He took his normal notes, but didn't really visualize the spells as his favorite Professor ran through the lesson plan.

Potions class was a particularly trying time for Harry. Professor Snape revealed a new aspect to his vindictive nature when he asked Harry to the front of the classroom. "Potter, to the front please. You will assist me in a presentation."

Professor Snape's aura was flared slightly, and he seemed to be quite pleased with himself. Harry wasn't sure what the man had planned, but was fairly sure that it wouldn't be pleasant. Professor Snape motioned for Harry to sit in the stool. He then produced a phial of a reddish potion. Harry could feel the aura pulsing with heat.

"This is a remedy for the common cold, class." Professor Snape said. "It is called a Pepper-Up potion. Mr. Potter will now take this potion, and you will observe the side-effects."

Harry took the phial in his hand, and could feel the magical heat of the potion, even though the phial was quite cool to the touch. It didn't seem dangerous, so Harry downed the potion. He didn't miss, the gleam in his Professor's eye, but could tell that Snape didn't really mean him harm. He could feel the burst of magical heat as the potion hit his stomach, and felt the magic radiate throughout his body. Moments later, the class laughed out loud as steam began to pour from Harry's ears. Harry blushed red with embarrassment, and then flushed with heat.

---

Snape sneered at Harry's obvious discomfort at being the center of attention, but was caught off guard when Harry's skin flushed a deep red. The Pepper-Up potion was designed to raise the body heat slightly, and basically burn the cold out of a person, with the embarrassing side effect of a cloud of steam erupting from the ears. It wasn't designed to do this… Harry began to sweat, and there was no embarrassed smile on his face anymore. Instead, his face looked feverish, and he appeared to be in pain. Professor Snape was about to ask him if he was ok, but Harry raised his eyes to meet the potions master's. No, Harry was definitely NOT ok. His eyes were rapidly becoming bloodshot as his bright green irises began to glow with purple light.

---

Harry felt weird. It was too hot in the potions room, and he felt lightheaded. He looked at his Professor, and started to feel really strange. Purple spots began to appear in his field of view, and Harry found himself unable to focus. Suddenly, he felt a tremendous pressure building in his head. It was extremely painful, and Harry grabbed his head. That didn't help, and the pressure continued to build.

The Professor was too shocked to move. He was trying to make peace with Harry by having him to the front of the class, then Professor Snape could thank him for his help, and maybe erase the accusing stare that Harry always seemed to give him, especially since the chase game. And now, Harry was reacting badly with the Pepper-Up potion, and would probably blame it on the Professor.

While Snape was busy thinking about himself, Hermione ran to Harry's side. Harry was barely aware of her. The pressure was too much, and he couldn't bear any more of it. With a primal scream, Harry let his magic loose for the first time since the chase game, but this time without the safeguards of direction. It was just a wave of magic.

With Harry as the center, a giant explosion of golden light erupted from the front of the classroom. Chairs, tables, and anything that could be used as shields, were quickly utilized as everyone tried to avoid the massive surge of magic. Professor Snape was hit full force, and was thrown bodily against the wall, where he watched the rest of the scene.

Papers flew about in a cyclone, and potions ingredients danced their way across the floor. Cauldrons tipped over, and viscous liquids blended together on the floor. It was the very picture of mayhem, and Harry was once again in the middle. Severus Snape had a very powerful flashback, right then and there.

It was Halloween night when Severus got the call. Voldemort had found the Potters and was going to kill them. Severus was a second circle member with a grudge against James Potter, so he had been selected as one of the Dark Lord's honor guards. The defenses on the house weren't difficult, and Voldemort entered the house. The two honor guards remained outside to "deal" with any un-invited guests.

_Severus heard spells being cast downstairs, and heard the familiar sound of a killing curse being cast. James Potter was no more. It was rather unsatisfying to Severus Snape. He could hear Lily screaming upstairs, and then could hear her begging for Harry's life. _

_Another killing curse, and Lily was also dead. Severus heard the malicious laughter, and heard the awful spell cast once more. Rather than another round of laughter, Severus heard something else. It sounded vaguely like a train coming, but that didn't make sense. Suddenly, he was thrown from his feet as a golden cyclone engulfed the house._

Snape yanked himself out of the vision as Harry collapsed to the floor of the classroom, and rushed over to the boy. Hermione was holding him up, and crying quietly to herself. Professor Snape checked the boy's pulse, and found that he seemed to be fine now, and didn't feel hot anymore. He breathed a silent sigh of relief, and looked up to meet the accusing eyes of the young girl.

"His Aunt is coming today, Professor." She stated calmly, before her voice broke. "He was so excited to see her. How could you do this to him?"

"I'm sorry," Professor Snape said. It was the only think he could say. "I didn't know that he would be allergic."

He wasted no more time, and conjured a stretcher for the unconscious boy, and dismissed class early. He had to take Harry to the infirmary, and didn't want the rest of the class in the room, in case the chemicals that had been spilled on the floor reacted together badly.

---

Aunt Petunia made it to Hogsmeade without a problem. She was a little disconcerted to be back in the magical world again, but was dealing with it masterfully. She recognized a few people, but didn't really look hard. She had no intention of re-entering the magical world, and never had more than casual acquaintances here either.

Her muggle clothing didn't draw much attention, but she felt like she stood out. Everyone else was wearing robes and cloaks, but she was wearing long pants and a heavy coat. There wasn't anything she could do about it, and the coat would be better than a cloak, since she couldn't cast any heating charms on her own garments.

At the end of the village, she found the familiar gates, and started up the walkway. She'd been here before, of course. She'd visited once for Lily's graduation, and had come once again for Lily's wedding, shortly after the times had turned dark for the wizarding world. Still, it had been a while. The forest was as forbidding as ever, and she shifted to the other side of the path, as far from the forest as the path allowed her to be.

It wasn't long before she found the second set of gates to the grounds. Beyond these gates, she could see the old ruins that she knew concealed Hogwarts from muggles and squibs. She held up her hand to the gargoyle, and stated that she was here to visit.

The gargoyle never moved, but the air inside the gate shimmered, and a beautiful castle took the place of the once dilapidated ruin. The gates swung open with their normal creak, and Petunia wondered for the millionth time if wizards tried to be creepy on purpose.

Hagrid was waiting to escort her to the castle. Petunia was surprised at this. In her last letter, Harry was quite excited to be coming down to collect her personally. He wanted to show her the grounds. Petunia had already seen them, but Harry was so eager to do it that she fully intended to act like she'd never seen them before.

Hagrid was not smiling, and looked worried. Petunia tried not to get upset early. Her sister had told her all about the gentle giant, and how upset he could get over small things that weren't important. "Good day, Hagrid." Petunia said, as politely as she could. "How have you been?"

"Oh, I've been alright." Hagrid said. He didn't really know what he was supposed to say to her, beyond telling her that Professor Dumbledore wanted to see her when she got there. "I've been sent to get ya, so the Headmaster can speak to you."

THAT got Petunia worried. "Where's Harry?" She asked. "I was told that he'd be meeting me here, so he could take me around the grounds."

"Oh." Hagrid looked very uncomfortable. "Well, ya see, there were a little accident this morning, and Harry's in the hospital." That got Petunia to an almost panic level, and Hagrid rushed to calm her down. "Oh, he's fine! Just had a bad reaction to a potion. Professor Snape had him up for a demonstration, and he was allergic to the stuff, is all."

The mention of Snape snapped Petunia out her panic, and her eyes narrowed shrewdly. "Severus Snape?" She asked.

"Yep." Hagrid confirmed. "He's the potions master here, and a fine one he is, too." Hagrid paused, and then continued in a quieter tone. "If only he weren't such a git about it."

"Let me see if I have the full picture." Petunia said, trying not to scream in mindless rage. "Severus Snape, the man personally responsible for the destruction of Ravenclaw house, expelled in the middle of his seventh year, and known Death Eater, is the man responsible for my nephew being in the hospital?"

"I think you need to talk to the Headmaster," was the only reply she got. Hagrid began to walk off, and Petunia fell in behind him. She could get the answers she needed directly from the Headmaster, and make sure this didn't happen again.

The entrance hall wasn't much different from the way she remembered it, but she wasn't really concentrating on it. Hagrid led her to the infirmary, where she found a collection of people. Professor McGonagall and Albus Dumbledore she recognized, but there was a woman there who appeared to be a nurse as well, and a small girl, who must have been one of Harry's friends. Just past where the chairs were, she saw her nephew, unconscious once more. She walked over, and checked on him herself.

The nurse woman looked like she was going to give her the report, but she didn't need it. "He's exhausted himself again, has he?" The nurse seemed genuinely shocked that a muggle woman would recognize the symptoms of magical exhaustion, and only nodded. "It's happened before, you know. Normally it only happens when he does something for the first time. I've never seen it caused by outside interference." Petunia turned cold eyes to the Headmaster. "And I was under the impression that Harry was going to be protected from the sort of forces that would try to harm him."

"I think this discussion is best saved for my office, Petunia." Dumbledore said. "I am not sure that you are aware of the full circumstances of what occurred this morning, but I can assure you that Severus didn't intentionally harm Harry."

---

Harry was walking in pitch darkness. He knew what was going on, since this had happened to him a few times before. His body had used too much magic, and he was not able to keep himself awake right now. He would wake up eventually, when his body replenished enough magic to allow his eyes to open.

Given that he had some time to kill, Harry took a little trip through his own mind, looking for anything that he might find interesting, or perhaps some stray thoughts that he could play with until his body allowed his consciousness back in.

It wasn't long before Harry found the stray thoughts he was looking for. Hermione was sitting in the Draconus common room, looking over her notes. Harry walked over to her and struck up a conversation. They talked of many things, from Harry's emerging power, to the odd occurrence of Harry's wings changing on the Quidditch pitch. Harry knew better than to ask Hermione questions about her life that he didn't know the answers to, since this wasn't really Hermione, just an image of her from a stray thought. It had to be a stray thought, because if it were a memory, he couldn't interact with it. Memories were very specific, and never deviated from their actions, but stray thoughts were just random things, and Harry could direct their flow easily with his imagination.

It wasn't too long before his mind was pulled back to the surface, and his eyes opened a crack. He was in the hospital wing. That was ok, and it was dark outside. He wasn't sure how long he's been out, but if it was the same day, it had only been about five hours or so. That wasn't too bad. He was still quite tired, however, and dropped back into a normal sleep.

---

"Alright, Albus," Petunia started, using the aged Headmaster's first name, "Explain this to me. You can start with how you came to the conclusion that it would be a good idea to put that horrid man in a position to harm my nephew." Albus started to speak, but Harry's Aunt didn't really give him time to respond. She was ranting. "He was there, Albus, and you know it. He was standing just outside the house when You-Know-Who killed my sister. How could you eve think about putting him and Harry in the same castle?" She then paused. Dumbledore would be heard, but she had needed the rant a little.

"Severus Snape is a man of many demons, Petunia." The aged wizard said. "He was in my employ, as a spy, when Voldemort," Petunia cringed at the name, "called him for a special mission. He only found out when he arrived that the mission involved the deaths of the Potters." Albus rubbed the bridge of his nose. "He couldn't contact anyone, and couldn't warn Lily or James. He came to me, just after the mission, and informed me of what had happened. He was in hysterics, and I had to stun him. I honestly believe that it was the worst moment of his life when Voldemort killed Lily and James."

Petunia took issue with that statement. "Albus, that's not true, and you know it. I knew the man only by name and reputation, but even I know that he hated James Potter with as much passion as anyone ever could, and he hated Lily almost as much. He destroyed the Ravenclaw house in his seventh year, and got himself expelled, in an attempt to kill both James Potter and Lily Evans, when he learned that they were engaged to be married." Petunia was working herself up, and took a few breaths to calm herself a bit. "He couldn't have been sorry to see the Dark Lord succeed where he had failed."

"I believe, Petunia, that it was his hatred for the two of them that made it worse for him." Albus said. "Severus may have hated them, but it was his job to feed information to us, and that information kept Lily and James alive. He loved the fact that Lily and James were alive because HE said so. When Voldemort found them, and launched his attack with no warning, it took away the entire reason for his existence, at least in his own mind. His whole world collapsed in a moment, and left him as nothing. That is not an easy thing to reconcile, and Severus has been trying to come to terms with his life for the last ten years. Harry coming to this school was good for him, and I believe that he might be beginning to appreciate Harry, somewhat."

Anger was flaring in Petunia's eyes. "He's got a funny way of showing it!" She screeched. "He tried to kill him, and in front of Harry's entire class!"

"Petunia, please calm down." Albus said, raising his hands in a placating gesture. "Severus meant no harm to Harry. There was a misunderstanding between the two of them a few weeks ago, and Severus was trying to make amends. The idea was that Harry would demonstrate the effects from the Pepper-Up potion, which are actually a bit comical, and everyone, including Harry, would have a little laugh. Then Severus could thank Harry for his help, and partially make amends for the misunderstanding." Albus looked her straight in the eye, and Petunia could see the honesty reflected in his eyes. "I myself approved the idea. There was only one problem. I'd forgotten for a few moments that a magus, like Harry, reacts to magic differently than normal wizards. It slipped my mind that harmless things, like fitting charms and simple potions can cause unpredictable and sometimes dangerous reactions with the magic internal to the magus."

"What are you saying, Albus?" Petunia inquired.

"Very simply, Petunia, Harry had an allergic reaction to the Pepper-Up potion. There was no way anyone could have prepared for that. There is no possibility of allergic reaction in normal wizards, and there haven't been any magi in the last nine hundred years. There was simply no way that Severus would have even suspected that Harry might be the first person in history to be allergic to Pepper-Up."

"Harry wrote me about being a magus, and I checked Lily's old books for the reference." Petunia said, not really angry anymore. "I couldn't even find a reference to them, and I've never heard of the term before, except in muggle fiction. Albus, what is Harry?"

Albus got that familiar twinkle in his eye. "Petunia, Harry is a magus, or what we used to call a warrior-wizard." His eyes were even more excited. "They once inhabited the more northern areas of Scotland, and were considered the ultimate in magical fighters. One magus was said to be worth thirty good wizards in a fight. A magus is normally quite powerful, but their talents are mostly postured towards battle. They use a form of wandless magic that allows them to quickly target, neutralize, and triumph over their enemies."

Petunia understood the part about postured towards fighting. "I wondered about that. Every time Harry used magic, it was in some sort of conflict, unless he was just playing around." Petunia paused for a second, then her eyes lit up with understanding. "That's why he flies! If he is in the air, he can defend himself on all sides at once, and can see where his opponents are better!"

"It also explains his 'sight,' Petunia." Dumbledore said, quite enjoying this conversation now. "Harry can see the spells that are normally hidden, and can 'see' magic on a much more basic level than we can. That means he can tell which spells are dangerous to him, and which ones he can use to his own advantage."

"How did this happen, Albus?" Petunia asked, the excitement fading as she realized the implications of a few of Harry's powers. "If there hasn't been a magus in the last nine hundred years, why did Harry suddenly become one, and why aren't there any others?"

"I don't know, Petunia." Albus said, once again feeling tired. "I just don't know."

---

The next morning, Petunia made her way to the infirmary. Harry was not awake yet, but Petunia was informed that he was sleeping normally. That was a good sign. The feverish sleep brought on by magical exhaustion was a tricky malady for any medi-witch or wizard. The only cure for magical exhaustion was for the person's reserves to recharge enough that they pulled themselves out of their semi-comatose state. Many witches and wizards had over-extended their abilities, and burned their power conduits out. These unfortunate specimens never woke from their magical comas, and normally died in a few weeks, as their body's strain caught up with them.

As Petunia turned to leave, Harry's eyes fluttered open. "Hi." He said weakly. He wasn't recharged yet, but he was strong enough to stay conscious for a while.

Petunia whirled back around, and met the bright green eyes of her nephew. "Harry!" She hugged him fiercely. "Oh, thank god you're awake! I was so worried about you."

Harry returned her hug, albeit a little weakly. His magic seemed somehow tied to his physical strength, and both had a tendency to go at the same time when he exhausted himself. "I'm ok, Aunt Petunia. Just a little tired."

Madame Pomfrey chose that moment to announce her presence. "A little tired!" She bustled quickly over to Harry, and began checking him over. "You're lucky that you didn't do any permanent harm, Magus Potter. Do try and be more careful with yourself."

Aunt Petunia was going to say something, but Harry got there first. He narrowed his eyes at the medi-witch. "This," he said, his eyes piercing her soul, "was not MY fault, Madame Pomfrey."

Madame Pomfrey shivered at the look he was giving her, and stepped back. "Of course not, Magus Potter…."

Petunia put a hand on Harry's shoulder, and met his eyes. "She was worried about you, Harry." The anger left Harry's eyes. "Lots of people react like that once the danger is passed. I do it too." She smiled at him, and he returned it shakily. "Remember when you ended up on the roof of the school, and couldn't get down?" Harry nodded. "I was so worried about you, that I punished you when you got home. I wasn't angry with you, since it wasn't really your fault, but I needed the release. It's a human thing, Harry."

"I'm sorry, Aunt Petunia, Madame Pomfrey." Harry said, looking apologetic. "I over-reacted. I'm just tired."

"Get some rest, Harry." Petunia said. "I'm going to head to the Great hall for breakfast. I'll check back in on you in a few hours, okay?"

"Ok, Aunt Petunia." Harry said, and then settled back into the bed. His eyes shut, and he was sleeping peacefully in a few minutes.

"He is quite an amazing boy." Madame Pomfrey said. "I just wish I knew more about what he is. It's nearly impossible for me to treat him. I don't know what potions he's going to react with, or what spells might hurt him."

"Did you get a sample of his blood when he came in?" Petunia asked. "If you did, you can probably run some tests on it, to see what he might react with, and cast some spells on it, testing to see what might hurt him."

"I did take a sample, but I might need more." Madame Pomfrey said. "If I need more, do I have your permission to ask Harry for another sample?"

"Certainly, Madame Pomfrey." Petunia said. "If it will help you help Harry, then you can have my permission."

"Thank you, Petunia." Madame Pomfrey said. "I'd join you for breakfast, but I have a few things to take care of here. I trust you can find the Great Hall without me?"

"I know where it is." Petunia said. "Thank you for taking good care of my nephew, Madame Pomfrey." Madame Pomfrey waved her off, and Petunia headed for the Great Hall.

---

The next time Harry woke up, he had another visitor. His eyes were still bleary from the sleeping, but he would recognize the bright purple aura that screamed "Hermione!" anywhere. He was glad to wake up to a friend.

"Morning, Hermione!" He said, as brightly as he could. It was still a little weak sounding, but much better than he had managed earlier that day. It surprised him how he felt, so he concentrated on the feeling a little. He felt almost halfway recovered, and that was interesting. Normally it took him almost a week to bring his magic back to normal.

Hermione's aura rippled, and she whipped her head around, much like Harry's Aunt had earlier in the day. And just like his Aunt, the first word out of her mouth was "Harry!" Harry smirked quietly to himself. It was kind of funny that two very different people would have the same reaction. "I came to see you yesterday, but you were unconscious. I was worried about you, but Madame Pomfrey said you'd be ok." That was about as far as she got. She wanted to say more, Harry could see it in her face, but couldn't fight her impulse anymore. She threw herself at him, and hugged him in a bone-crushing embrace.

It was the oddest experience of Harry's life. Hermione was hugging him, but that wasn't too unusual. Mostly his Aunt had hugged him before, but this was a bit different. As Hermione started crying quietly, her aura started to ripple again. Suddenly, the aura shifted, and he could feel her purple aura surrounding him also. It wasn't just surrounding him, however. It was flowing through him, and he could feel it welling into his reserves. He could also feel Hermione's aura growing weaker, and separated himself from her a little. He didn't want her to give him all her energy, because even though he would be better, she'd be in the hospital. That wouldn't really solve anything, now would it?

Hermione apparently felt the pressure that Harry was putting on her shoulders, and decided that it was a long enough hug. She pulled back, and looked him over. "You look a lot better than you did yesterday, Harry." Her aura pulled back, and stopped rippling. ""You were so pale and clammy last time I saw you. I was so worried that Professor Snape did something to you.

The name 'Snape' had an interesting effect on Harry. He wasn't mad at the Professor exactly, but had an overwhelming desire for revenge. As his eye glazed over, he realized that the desire for revenge was not from inside him, it was from the castle around him. He sent a silent question to the massive entity, and got back a strong desire for revenge, and an idea for it. He sent back a laughing acceptance to the idea, and got a feeling of anticipation from the castle.

Hermione and Harry talked for a while, and Hermione brought him all of the assignments he'd missed that day. Hermione's little energy boost had given him the energy he needed to stay awake, so they worked on their homework until Harry was exhausted again. It was almost Hermione's bedtime anyway, so the two friends parted company. Hermione promised to visit the next day.

---

"Potter is in the Hospital wing." A high-pitched voice whispered. "Do you know how this happened, Quirrel?"

"No master, I do not." Professor Quirrel said, fearing for the punishment that would come with the lack of knowledge. "I know that there was some sort of accident in Potter's potions class, but Snape has refused to respond to my questions, and none of the students know what happened. I asked several of the Slytherin children, but they only gave me a vague description of the class."

"You disappoint me, Quirrel. Let us hope that this doesn't become a habit."

"Yes, master."

---

Professor Snape was angry with both himself, and Harry Potter. Mostly Potter. For the last three hours, he had been unsuccessfully trying to enter his potions classroom. There was a very large mess to clean up, and it would likely take all his time before the morning classes, without leaving any time for sleep. He was mad at himself that he'd been unprepared for the possibility of Harry's allergic reaction, and felt it was really his punishment that he had to clean the classroom. He was angry with Potter, because he just _had _to be responsible for what was happening right now.

Professor Snape gave up for the moment, and sat down next to the solid stone wall of the dungeon, before cursing and slamming his fist on the wall. The wall was _supposed_ to be the door to his classroom. Like the first time he had met the boy, the castle had somehow retaliated for perceived crimes against Harry Potter.

---

Albus Dumbledore was sitting next to the bed when Harry woke next. His magic was doing something funny, and surrounding him with a green light. Unlike before, when Hermione had hugged him, Dumbledore's green aura was held back by an unseen force, which Harry assumed was his own magic.

Dumbledore was concentrating quite hard, and didn't realize when Harry woke up. Rather than the sheepish welcome that his Aunt and friend had received, Harry chose a different greeting. "Just what exactly are you trying to do, Professor Dumbledore?" The man's eyes flew open, and the aura lashed back as if slapped. The professor had to put a hand to his head and get his mind under control, and his flailing aura stopped lashing about.

"Harry…You startled me." Professor Dumbledore looked into himself, to find a half-truth, but nothing would come forward as a good excuse. Then he remembered that Harry's powers acted like a personal lie detector. "I was trying to speed your recovery, Harry. It is not uncommon, in cases like yours, for another wizard to give a small amount of their reserve energy to another wizard, to speed the recovery from magical exhaustion."

"Professor, you're going to have to do better than that." The professor was telling the truth, sure, but he was holding something back. It wasn't Harry's power telling him this; it was his Slytherin-like cleverness. "If you wanted to speed my recovery, you should have come in the morning, not the middle of the night. Then Madame Pomfrey could have helped you out with the transfer of energy. I heard her talking to my Aunt earlier today, when she came back after breakfast. She said that energy transfers are tricky, and should always be supervised."

The Headmaster hated it when he was caught in a situation like this. Normally, he was at least three steps ahead of everyone, and was prepared in advance. Harry, however, had a way of being two steps ahead of even the Great Albus Dumbledore. "What you say is true, Harry, and I was not being completely honest with you. Today, the castle seems to have locked Professor Snape out of his classroom, and he has been trying, unsuccessfully to find a way in for several hours. He says that this prank is your doing, and wanted me to force you to undo whatever it is that you've done."

"I didn't do anything, Professor." Harry said. "I've been in here all day, sleeping off my exhaustion." He couldn't help but grin at the castle's joke though.

"Perhaps you have, Harry, but I myself have noticed the special rapport you seem to share with the castle. The hole that Professor Snape fell into in my office, the creative redecorating of the Great Hall, and now the rearrangement of the walls in the dungeons. None of these things were possible before you came to Hogwarts, since the spells that created the castle were lost almost a thousand years ago." Harry was serious now, and paying attention, so Dumbledore continued. "You seem to share a bond with the castle that is even deeper than I have as Headmaster of the school. When you woke up, I was attempting to scan your power center, to try and understand the connection that you have to this place, and use it to convince the castle to allow Professor Snape back into his classroom. Classes tomorrow have already been canceled so that he can finish cleaning the room."

"What did you find out about my power center, Professor?" Harry was not happy at all with the Headmaster. His magic was sacred to him, and Professor Dumbledore had tried to invade his privacy.

"Nothing, Harry. I believe that your magic shielded you from being scanned. I would like to understand you better, but I won't try that again without your permission." Professor Dumbledore seemed to understand that Harry was upset. "I'm sorry, Harry."

"Sorry you tried, or sorry you got caught, Professor?" Harry asked coldly. He knew he was being rude, and his Aunt Petunia would scold him for it later, but the Headmaster had upset him greatly.

"Both, Harry." Professor Dumbledore said. "Sorry I got caught, because it lowered your opinion of me, and sorry that I tried, because it compromised my integrity to do so."

Harry softened. There was no lie there, and the Professor seemed to feel genuinely sorry that he'd done it. "I'll forgive you tomorrow, Professor. It's the middle of the night, and I'd like to get back to sleep."

"Of course, Harry." Professor Dumbledore stood, and walked towards the exit. "Good night, Magus Potter."

Before he slipped back into his dreams, Harry sent a message to the castle that enough was enough, and the castle sent back a happy response, indicating that it had had its fun with Snape.

---

It was the next day sooner than Harry was prepared for, and he was released from the Hospital wing after a very thorough examination from Madame Pomfrey, who couldn't understand how he had recovered so astonishingly fast from almost complete magical burnout. Harry suspected that Hermione had something to do with it, but just shrugged his shoulders and remained silent.

Harry and Petunia stayed together for most of the morning, Harry being excused from his lessons for the day, and Petunia finally got her guided tour of the grounds. She had purposely stayed inside the castle for the entire day after she arrived, wanting to allow her nephew to give her the tour he was so excited about.

The pair of them finally sat down at the Draconus table in the Great hall, so that they could have their conversation. Harry wasn't really ready for it, even though he'd had more than a month to prepare. He was glad that everyone was in class right then, because he couldn't have had the conversation in front of a crowd of people.

"Aunt Petunia," Harry started, "do you know exactly why I needed you to come up to Hogwarts?"

Harry's Aunt, however, was more than ready for this conversation. It had been killing her, not knowing why she was needed at Hogwarts as soon as arrangements could be made. "No, Harry. Albus just told me that you had uncovered something very important, and my presence was needed as soon as he could make the necessary arrangements."

"I found something important, alright." Harry remarked, a touch sarcastically. "I found Peter Pettigrew."

That didn't make sense to Petunia, and she said so. "What do you mean, you found him?" She asked. "He's been dead for ten years, Harry."

"No, Aunt Petunia. I found him, hiding out in the pocket of a Gryffindor boy, named Ron Weasley." Harry said, trying to make her understand. "He was an animagus, a shape shifter, Aunt Petunia. He turned himself into a rat, and hid himself away."

"But why?" His Aunt said. "Once Sirius was arrested, he would have no reason to hide anymore. Unless…" A look of pure shock crossed over Petunia's face as she attempted to think about what that could mean. It was too horrible, and she couldn't make her mind process the new information. "Harry?"

"It was him, Aunt Petunia." Tears formed in Harry's eyes. "He was the one who gave my parents up. It was him who killed them." Harry buried his head in Petunia's shoulder and started to cry.

Petunia was too shocked to properly comfort Harry. The new information was spinning in her mind, and quickly making its way to a handsome, dark haired man, wasting away in Azkaban prison. She could barely find the voice to whisper his name. "Sirius…"

"He didn't kill anyone, Aunt Petunia." Harry's tear-weighted voice broke through her thoughts. "Peter Pettigrew used a spell to blow up the street, and killed twelve muggles in the process. He made the whole thing up, to frame Sirius for his murder, so he could hide."

Petunia was too shocked to process the information. Sirius Black, the man she had loved since the summer before Lily's seventh year at Hogwarts, the man who had betrayed her family to Voldemort, the man who had caused her to turn her back on the wizarding world, was not the man she had believed him to be. She felt the tears begin, and knew that they weren't going away anytime soon. Harry squeezed her tighter, and she squeezed back, both comforting, and being comforted by, her nephew.


End file.
